


And the Universe Laughed

by WDGin



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, I forgot that i hadn't posted it on ao3, Idk how to write romance lol, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements, finally some action!, slow burn?, so here it is, who let me write?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WDGin/pseuds/WDGin
Summary: The universe doesn't make mistakes, and cliches exist for a reason. In which, dorky Bella moves to Forks and her soul kinda went, 'oh there you are.'





	1. Sweet Beginnings

Serendipity - (n.) finding something good without looking for it

 

\---

 

She eyed the luggage above her wearily and slightly warily. It was a long day, most of which had been spent with Renée. She had cleverly sent Phil on various errands that lasted most of the day. Or so Bella thought. Unbeknownst to her, they had both conspired to make today a rather special occasion. Her mother had driven them to the mall in hopes of buying Bella some last minute items for the new school year.  A school year that would be spent with Charlie. Renée’s meaning of ‘last minute’ meant something completely different than Bella’s definition.

 

It was hardly considered ‘last minute’ if there were still 3 weeks until the new semester. Nevertheless, she agreed to her mother’s request acquiescently. This was mostly due to the fact that she wouldn’t be seeing her dear and sweet (if slightly silly at times) mother. 

 

And so, they ended up buying relatively little at all, if anything. Although they did decide to splurge on their favorite (and only) ice creamery that sold gelato. She stole a big spoonful of her mother’s yellow pineapple delicacy. Bella herself preferred the darker, and what many considered to be, ‘tart’ flavor of mixed berries. She didn’t think it tart at all, and instead thought it had just the right amount of sweetness. 

 

She foolishly thought it would be enough to distract her mom from asking if they were going to continue shopping. Bella gave the perfectly valid reason that she had enough clothes at Charlie’s and that she wouldn’t want to add more weight to her baggage. She sure as heck didn’t want to pay the extra fee. In fact, her mother had absentmindedly glanced at the time on her phone’s screen before hesitantly agreeing that it was time to go. It was all Bella could do not to whoop and holler when her mother wasn’t looking. In all honesty, shopping was fine. Mostly. 

 

Just not today at least. 

 

\---

 

It was neither her first time on a plane, nor would it be the last. Still, the duffel bag’s pocket across from her minisculely grew bigger as a pair of sneakers attempted to escape their confines. Bella had only noticed it, when at first, she could not identify the origin of the noise. It was the zipper. It would open a little more with every movement that was made when others put their luggage in the overhead compartment. She silently prayed that it wouldn't fall on her head when it would be time to pass through that particular section of seats.  

 

Deciding to ignore the impending accident waiting to happen, she slowly got out a pair of earbuds from her pocket, a piece of gum falling out as she did so. Darn things always got tangled, she frowned. Placing the pink edible back in her pocket, she focused her attention back on the task at hand. Luckily for her, she always enjoyed a good challenge. Her nimble fingers soon came back victorious from the now, formerly tangled grey cords. 

 

This was her second flight. It was considerably shorter than the first (only an hour long), but being cooped up made Bella feel antsy. Especially when there was an abundance of people in the nearby vicinity. Luckily for her, she had managed to be seated next to the window. The major downside to this was that she would have to bother the occupants in the adjacent seats to reach the restroom. She would just have to turn down the beverage offered this flight. Fortunately, she had gone to the restroom while waiting for the layover airplane. She had even managed to find a book that a friend had recommended in the airport’s ridiculously expensive shops. Its orange lettering style and font probably would have caught her attention, had she not recognized the title, she admitted to herself. 

 

Her right hand reached into the pocket of her faded green hoodie to briefly rub against the familiar material. It was one of her favorite articles of clothing that she owned, and while Renée offered again and again to buy a new one, Bella always declined. She liked this one, along with another equally-as-faded blue zippered hoodie, which she had obviously packed into her luggage. Although its warm but thin fleece lining was long gone, it kept her very toasty. 

 

_ Kinda like those houses or specially made buildings that were warm in the winter but cool in the summer.  _ An odd and random comparison, but it seemed true enough.

  
  


With a quick glance to her peaceful neighbor, Bella finally inserted the tiny objects into her ears. She expertly connected its cable to the phone and, upon opening the phone's music selection, hit shuffle. Why she preferred shuffle as of recently was an elusive mystery to her as she would just skip along the songs to find one she wanted. Nevertheless, she relented to her wants. Her fingers edged along the top of the pages until they skimmed the harder surface of her origami bookmark. Opening the book, she was soon lost to the futuristic and dystopian genre of the novel. 

 

\---

 

The only reason she ended up looking up (nearly an hour later) was solely due to the muffled voice on the speakers. Left hand reaching up, the voice suddenly became clearer as her earbud came out. 

 

Ah, yes... the inflight announcements. She listened to them inattentively as either the captain or a flight attendant listed off the local time and weather. She had opted to continue reading through the landing. She had her seatbelt on and it’s not like she had the little tray pulled out to serve as a potential hazard should the airplane somehow crash in the 1000 feet or so from the runway. 

 

She’s been here enough times to expect the fresh atmosphere she would encounter once she exited of the airport. That having been said, she pulled her hoodie closer against her. She pulled down her pushed up sleeves. She’d probably push them up again but oh well. As much as she loved it here, she silently cursed her disposition towards Arizona weather. She would be escaping 105 plus weather and exchanging it for the heavenly averages of 70s in July. The dramatic change in temperature almost always threw her off every year.

 

At the most, she’d have a headache and feel like crap in the morning and the following day. At the very least she’d be mildly chilly. 

 

She would also be exchanging thin t-shirts for thicker long-sleeved shirts. That for sure was a welcome change. 

 

As the announcements were wrapping up, closed her book and she reached down to grab her black and teal knapsack. Its impressive patterns were of Mexican descent and she cherished this new gift. Its paradoxically soft and rough medium made Bella fleetingly knead the mound beneath her palms.  _ Repeatedly _ . Canvas material, she decided upon. Or maybe not; it was softer than her worn out Converse. 

 

She stretched the opening of the bag and gently placed her book inside, moving the other items to accommodate for the new arrival. Popping the other bud out and pulling the cord from its input, Bella considered placing it in the small pocket of her knapsack. She decided against it and instead positioned the now wrapped cable into the pocket of her jeans. She shimmied down her jeans slightly to make room in her tiny ass women pockets. Her jeans with the good pockets were in her luggage, dang it. God, she looked forward to lazing about in her designated pjs - tee shirts and joggers with giant pockets. Arizona weather made for tiny ass shorts and  _ maybe _ a tank top. 

 

She pulled on the drawstrings and secured the button before attempting to slip her arms through the thin straps. Carefully pushing the rucksack to the side (she had to be mindful of her neighbor after all), she placed it on her back and felt its firm and flat weight on her back muscles. 

 

She patiently waited for the other passengers to gather their belongings from above. As patiently as she could anyways. Seeing no point in standing, she had remained sitting, facing the interior path of the plane. Would it be called a hallway, she pondered in her seemingly eternal boredom. Her leg bounced in crazy beats, completely unlike her slowly drumming fingers hidden within the confines of her hoodie pocket. 

 

She smirked as she watched unknown passenger number one reaching a hand towards the duffel bag. In the seconds that followed, she disguised a snort as a cough as best as she could. One brightly colored Nike sneaker had indeed fallen, just as she had predicted. However, it had fallen straight to the carpeted floor, narrowly missing landing on the owner’s head. The owner bent over to pick them up and hurriedly place it back with its twin, making sure to zip up the zippers all the way, before walking the rest of the walkway.

 

A few more rows now. 

 

Bella eyed the people in ahead of her row. The small trio seemed to know each other and were not paying particular attention to the line, shuffling forward absentmindedly. With just her rucksack to worry about, she saw the opportunity and joyfully took it. Finders keepers, losers weepers. Though Bella certainly wasn’t under 5 feet tall (she was 5’5” thank you very much), she managed to squirm with a cat-like grace in the small space provided without feeling like she touched or bumped into anything. She supposed her lanky frame was to thank for that. 

 

Moving on, both with her thoughts and feet, she walked down the mostly empty walkway. She felt the brisk air from the doorway on what little exposed skin it could find. Shuffling faster, she made her way down the ramp and into the airport. 

 

\---

 

Hmm…

 

…

 

Maybe if she kept going straight (haha…). Okay, she needed to get to  _ this _ gate but she was apparently  _ here _ on the map.Obviously, as a seasoned traveler (ha!), she shouldn’t be having such a hard time. She blamed lack of caffeine. She had coffee in the morning before she was out with Renée, but sadly, that was hours ago. It effect was long gone by now. A warm tea would do wonders right now though, she thought wistfully. 

 

Did she want her sleep to suffer in the middle of the night due to the possible caffeine content or not? 

 

Or she could just get decaf tea like a non-melodramatic person...

 

With that in mind, she slid one strap off to better reach the small pocket where her wallet was located. She placed it in her back pocket and readjusted her pack in its original position. With that particular goal in mind, and money in her pocket for quick and easy access, she set off in search of a place that sold warm beverages. Preferably a Peet’s Coffee, or Starbucks, but she wasn’t overly picky. Walking forward, with her rubber soles thudding softly against the linoleum floor, she set off in her grand quest!

 

\---

 

Why she had been designated to pick up the little pixie, she didn’t know. 

 

Okay, fine, she  _ did _ , but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t. As far as anyone was concerned, and whatever they thought, they were wrong. She most certainly didn’t come here  _ willingly _ . Esme had  _ asked _ . And she wasn’t about to say no to her dearest mother. Either way, she had driven her carmine red BMW all the way to the airport. 

 

She was due to pick up Alice on her return flight from France. And Jasper was set to return about two weeks later from South America. Only once before (maybe twice, she had to admit) had she bothered to, rather redundantly, ask why they took those occasional trips apart, why they didn’t spend them together (when they obviously missed each other during said trips). She suspected the answer but still wanted to have her musings confirmed. Alice had replied from the safe distance of a few feet away the rather clichéd answer of ‘ _ distance makes the heart grow fonder, Rosalie _ .’ 

 

Rosalie had thrown a pillow in her general direction. Even without any special skills, she had predicted that she wouldn’t hit her intended target. In all honesty, it had been one of her weaker and slower throws. 

 

Surprisingly, or rather  _ unsurprisingly _ , she had received a similar answer from Jasper. Her ‘twin’ responded that even if he travelled alone, he would get this happy feeling whenever he thought about coming home to her. She truly was a climate he enjoyed the most, and conversely for Alice.

 

Rather quiet and composed by nature, this was one hell of a declaration from him. She supposed it was nice to know that their feelings for each other would never change due their respective gifts. Shift and change over the years to suit them maybe, but never disappear. 

 

In many ways, they were just like everyone else. Jasper the introvert met Alice the extrovert in a sweet little dinner in Philadelphia. ‘ _ She was just sittin’ there with two chocolate milkshakes and some fries, waiting. Told me I took long enough _ .’ He’d chuckle at the memory, fond amusement at the beginning of his new forever. 

 

Shaking the thoughts that had very recently (and once again) begun to plague her mind away, she took out her phone and started going through her contacts. Once the desired contact name appeared underneath her thumb [Little Demon], she dialed up the number. 

 

There was hardly any time for the first ring to ring before - 

 

_ “Rosalie!” _

 

\- that happened.

 

“Hello, Alice. How was your flight?” Rosalie inquired politely, already working her way towards the building from the dimly lit parking lot with a slow but easy stride. 

 

_ “Booo-ring! How else would a 20 hour flight be?” _ the little midget replied in rapid French, as though attempting to thoroughly convey her exasperation. 

 

Before she could even reply, Alice’s French filled her ears again: “ _ Coffee or tea _ ?” 

 

Rosalie blinked, unsure about whether to be surprised or cautious. How odd that Alice had even bothered to ask. She usually decided to forgo such simple and cumbersome details. However, she knew that Rosalie liked it better when she didn’t do her psychic (almost-mind-reading) skill. Normally Alice surprised her with simple things like food and drinks. Movies too, for their family nights. 

 

Ah, there were probably people nearby. She entered the elevator and pushed the button as she contemplated her response. After some thought she replied, “Am I going to regret not asking?” 

 

“ _ Nope _ !”

 

“Alright. Something sweet. Fruity maybe,” she proposed impishly, in lieu of an actual response to the spoken question. She heard the phone’s silence as a sign that Alice has hung up on her. No matter, Alice knew the preferred flavors of her palate anyways. She was out of the elevator by now and spotted some signs above her. With barely a pause in her step, her eyes quickly took in the large, clean cut font. That way to the luggage area it seemed. Not that she didn’t know her way around, but it was rather beneficial to act the part. Get into the swing of things one might say. 

 

Walking on what she thought to be a slightly tacky carpet (there were airplanes in the swirls), she made her way toward the baggage claim area. She stood some distance away from the oval monstrosity of the belt, away from what was soon to be a crowd. Already there was more than a handful of people, presumably waiting for other people still aboard the aircraft. She noted the reflective finish of the lustrous conveyor belts. Her gaze briefly caught metallic shades between periwinkle blue and amethyst glinting in the metal, mirroring her own iridescent irises, before she looked away, the colors disappearing from the metal as she did so. 

 

Her line of vision focused upon some point in space before being drawn to movement from her right. Clear royal eyes settled on a familiar build of a girl. It took Rosalie but a moment to place her. It was Angela, who had just finished putting her phone back in her pocket. 

 

Rosalie furrowed her eyebrows slightly before they evened out, wondering what the other girl was doing here. Usually her insistent twin brothers kept her busy. Or she’d be at the library reading and studying away. 

 

In a small town like this, it was quite easy to keep unmindful tabs on the residents. That, and Rosalie would disappear to the library often enough. She liked its calming atmosphere and soothing scent. The books were definitely a bonus. Emmett would come too sometimes, more often than not. He preferred to keep her company, sitting across from her in their appointed table and moving around her stacks of books. 

 

A few feet away from both Angela and the conveyor belt, Rosalie waited. She was vigilant about approaching or being approached by the other adolescent. Angela was certainly more than kind enough to entertain some small talk. But as it was, she just wanted Alice's luggage to roll through. Rosalie stood her ground, careful not to make any movements whatsoever that would attraction attention. Her position granted her an easy view of the escalators where Alice was bound to coming bouncing through. 

 

Letting her gaze roam left and right, she continued to remain at a standstill. 

 

\---

 

Was her carry-on bag too big?

 

Alice knew it was just the right size according to the sign before she boarded the plane but still. Any bigger and it could’ve surpassed the limits. Of course, she would’ve seen this future if she had chosen to take a bigger bag. Her point being that she was a woman of small stature. Carrying what would probably seem like a big, heavy bag. For a carry on anyways.

 

She was already out of the plane and ambling along the colorful storefronts when she pondered upon how she might look to others. 

 

Then again, her actual luggage was bigger. She’d make Rosalie carry that one then. To keep up appearances of course.  _ Better the taller of the two _ , she nodded almost imperceptibly.  _ Now for some drinks... _

 

Continuing her lively and confident walk, she headed towards a generic looking storefront that appeared to sell wam drinks a distance away. 

 

With a small smile forming, and her steps continuing, she decided to entertain herself with her particular and unique skill set. Let’s see…

 

The young 20 year old to her far left was going to visit her parents up in Canada. She still had this last flight to go, and was walking towards the designated gate. As she looked at her, she could see a transparent, future version besides her present self scrolling through a phone to call them.

 

Alice saw the tiny and delicate strands as people made their decisions. However, upon her mastery of her gift, she willed the most likely outcomes to materialize. Otherwise, she usually saw various and multiple shades doing various actions until the person in question decided on an action. She didn’t control them,  _ no _ , but she allowed herself to really see what  _ could _ happen. What was most likely to happen. 

 

This meant that they were to come true unless sudden actions interrupted the natural course of events. The future was not always set in stone. This part of her gift was only if she could see her subject in front of her. Any other visions came as they usually did, as  _ visions. _

 

She could’ve interrupted the young woman she passed to ask for directions. In doing so, she would’ve left her to google whatever Alice hypothetically said once she left. This in turn would’ve delayed her call to her parents. Even more so if the distraction was enough to cause her to forget to call.  

 

But Alice strove to not affect others’ lives too much. She moved her eyes and thoughts onto other subjects. 

 

Further ahead among the rows of seats, sat an older looking man. Alice concentrated  _ ahead _ to see his subsequent actions. He was due to board his plane in about half an hour to come home to his boyfriend in Nevada. Ah, so this was a business trip of some sort. She deduced this from his briefcase by his feet and his sleek laptop in his lap, fingers furiously typing. Staring for a moment longer, she could see his translucent self packing up his laptop and getting ready to board the plane. 

 

She liked to guess at each person’s appearance and reason before confirming it in a vision. It kept her observation skills in tip top shape. Occasionally, she liked to not rely on her visions. Although it wasn’t really  _ not-relying _ if she still checked that she was right.  

 

Okay, last one. Alice’s eyes slowly roved through the building before settling on a girl ahead of her, who was currently walking in the same direction as Alice. This teenager appeared to be around the same age as the rest of the Cullens, excluding Esme and Carlisle. What they looked to be anyways. Although with Alice’s youthful face, she could probably pass for the same age for a longer amount of time. 

 

...

 

_ Oh _ .

 

Alice’s eyes narrowed slightly in confusion as she contemplated this minor complexity. At first, the future shade of the girl wouldn’t appear. She narrowed her eyes and put some more focus into willing it to appear. Then it did, slowly but surely. It flickered in and out of existence before finally settling on a more or less solid appearance. 

 

She would have to discuss this with Carlisle and the rest of the coven. This was a most curious development indeed. 

 

Alice could only catch snippets of a conversation that the incorporeal form was intending to have: 

 

_ “...brothers?” _

 

_ “...drink?” _

 

_ “… vanilla.” _

 

So this teenager  _ was _ heading to that appealing little cafe. Interesting. Having never seen this newcomer before, Alice was keen to discover what she was doing here. She had not seen any visions during her time in Paris. Though that was probably due to the fact that she had not actively  _ looked _ for anything at the time. And the long distance most likely. And the shopping. Might as well throw the blame on the food too, she hummed quietly in amusement at her musings. 

 

\---

 

Bella saw rows upon rows of the comfortable looking blue seats of the seating areas. She had sat in these many a time in semi-complete boredom whenever she travelled. She counted a few as she leisurely walked by. And now, coming closer to the cafe, the wafting smells pleasantly greeted her nose. She inhaled deeply and let out a profoundly contented sigh. 

 

The scent of spiced coffee and teas were a godsend to her. One deep breath revealed the sweet but thick aroma of caramelled and dolled up coffee. Another divulged the secrets that were hidden inside the deceptively simple cups of tea. She felt her unruly senses reign in at the calming atmosphere, the boredom of the airplane starting to melt away. 

 

Thankfully there were not a lot of patrons to stand behind in a long line. Just three. And for this Bella silently thanked whoever was out there listening. She took her phone out of her snug pocket and speed dialed a number. 

 

“Hey!” She called out once the call was picked up. 

 

_ “Hello Bella.” _ She could hear some amusement in Angela's tone at her excited greeting. They called and texted often enough but there was a certain novelty in knowing that Bella was finishing up school here.  _ “Did your plane land already?” _

 

“Yep. Thanks for doing this,” Bella expressed her gratitude once again as she watched a customer get his heavily drizzled drink. Caramel, she  _ had _ guessed properly but she missed the chocolatey rivulets making their way down the whipped cream. God, how could she miss the delicious smell of chocolate? Two more. 

 

Unbeknownst to Bella, a much shorter customer just walked through the cafe’s open doors. Said figure slowed her stride until she was waiting but a few steps behind the last client after Bella.

 

_ “It’s no problem, I’ve been meaning to drive up to Port Angeles for a while now.” _

 

Bella wondered what Angela got. Books? Movies? Then she remembered what month it was. It was just the beginning of July, and the twins’ birthdays were at the end of the month! Man, she hadn’t seen those little monkeys in forever. She smirked before voicing her thoughts. 

 

“Did you go to find presents for your brothers?” At Angela’s positive affirmation, she hummed in thought before replying with a cheeky, “So I was making my way down to luggage when this little cafe  _ called _ my attention. Would you like something to drink? Some freezing ice cold coffee maybe?”

 

The response was instantaneous. 

 

_ “Bella _ no! _ Don’t you dare!” _ Angela all but yelled into the phone, loud enough that she had to briefly hold it away from her ear. Bella’s eyes diminished into slits and crinkled at the corners as a hearty laugh escaped her mouth at the sound of Angela’s horrified voice. 

 

Alice’s brown irises relocated from the food occupied shelves and onto the girl in front of her at the sudden noise. She looked on curiously at the familiar tone with which the girl chatted with her recipient. Port Angeles was a big city. Despite this, Alice felt in her dusty old bones that this particular individual was going to be important. How, she didn’t know, but she was going to find out one way or another.

 

Presently, she turned her attention back to the conversation at hand. What else was she supposed to do when she had all the time in the world? 

 

“Alright, alright  _ babe _ . I’ll get you your usual, boring  _ vanilla _ ,” Bella replied. Her emphasis on vanilla and babe were entirely deliberate. Because gosh, it was easy to fluster Angela if she wasn’t expecting it. And she gave back as good as she got most times. With her anyways. 

 

_ “Thank you. I’m waiting down in the luggage area so hurry up!” _

 

And with that the call ended, and the person in front of Bella stepped aside with their own drink in hand. She stepped forward, and although she briefly rehearsed what to say before the call, she hesitated now. For but a moment anyways... 

 

“Uh, could I get a mocha cappuccino and a cinnamon frappe? Medium, please.” 

 

Although she had teased Angela about her at-times-predictable tastes, Bella prefered the mild spice of smooth cinnamon with just hints of barely there vanilla gliding over her tongue. It was  _ warm _ and  _ sweet _ , and it was just something that Bella felt she was unable to describe accurately. 

 

Of course, her drink was cold so maybe warm isn’t quite the best word to use. Normally she would’ve gotten tea but she thought about the two new boxes of tea that she bought with a twinge of something akin to guilt. She really should finish those boxes but she knows that she’ll probably buy another box when its flavor catches her attention. 

 

She wonders about whether or not she left some with Charlie the last time she was here when the barista asks for a name.  _ Bella _ , she replies, before her thoughts switch to those of the mischievous kind. Perhaps she’ll present her cold drink to Angela in greeting. 

 

Behind her, a small satisfied smile appears on an equally small person at hearing the given name. Now she knows who to ask about. Knows which name she’s gotta keep her ears open. Her gut feelings are almost never wrong. Thoughts of which drinks to get are settled quickly as she sees this Bella person wait off to the side. 

 

Business is quick and she’s gone with two drinks in her hand just as Alice walked up to the counter. 

 

She makes a show of heaving her carry on closer to her. As expected, the guy is decent enough to place her drinks in a cardboard cup carrier without her asking. 

 

\---

 

She was still standing in the exact same spot when Alice texted her that she’d be down soon. Her phone again vibrated in her hand just as she was putting it back in her jacket pocket. The second message gave an exact time. 

 

And so Rosalie waited some more, occasionally shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She could probably keep the her same position longer but her human mannerisms seemed to be getting the best of her. She tapped her thumb on the fingers of her left hand to maintain some sort of movement. To keep the impending boredom at bay. 

 

Sure, she could get lost in her thoughts but she would often find herself focusing on the chaotic conversations breaking through the white noise. No, she did not particularly care about how Karen’s lasagna tasted or Luis’ flan,  _ which was handed down from generation to generation _ , came out. 

 

And yet, she found herself listening in half heartedly. Similar to how one would watch tv but still be on the phone. Or channel surfing while attempting to listen to a phone call. And when the first few people started walking through the gate, she focused her attention. 

 

And quite soon Rosalie spotted Alice and her short stature.

 

Watching her walk out among the throes of haggard people really seemed to put her height and fashion sense into perspective. But mostly her height. She snickered quietly under her breath. This obviously did not go unnoticed by Alice, who, upon reaching her destination, impishly held out her carry on bag for Rosalie to take. A raised blonde eyebrow was what she got in response, but she conceded and took the proffered item anyways.  

 

Now that she had a free hand, Alice took her drink from the holder and took a  _ long _ sip of it, delaying any pleasantries. 

 

A single eyebrow twitched. 

 

“Did you stick to your one bag challenge?” She wondered how many suitcases she would have to carry. Just two if Alice really did stick to Emmett’s dare. However, she did not recall the size of that one suitcase. 

 

“Of course I did, Rosalie! What, did you not expect me to?” Came Alice’s snarky remark. She’d never bet against Alice but boy was it fun to tease and joke about it.

 

Rosalie reached for the remaining drink instead of answering. Alice knew what she thought to that question already. “Well, let’s go then. Let’s not keep Esme waiting.”

 

With drinks in hand, and the Alice’s carry on in the other, they made their way towards the giant conveyor belt that would soon spit out the luggage from the plane. 

 

While the two siblings caught up, another passenger exacted a cheerful greeting to an unsuspecting, innocent bystander. 

 

“Angela! Baby, my sweet  _ thang _ , the love of my life, honey! I missed youuuu!” 

 

This was a greeting that Angela did not expect. She had no precedent for it, really. Although she and Bella had known each other since they were tiny toddlers, they had not made much of an  effort to be  _ more _ than friends until a few years back. As in, best friends. She greatly appreciated her friendship with this often-times hyperactive and sleepy human being. She had expected Bella to text her that she was coming down this way or something. 

 

“Hey! Ooh, is that for  _ moi _ ?” she asked with a smile on her face. Once Bella had mentioned the drinks, it was all she could think of in the quiet, humming boredom of waiting in airports. “Dang, look at the love of my life.” She motioned to the drinks in Bella’s hand. She wasn’t entirely sure which one was which. The names weren’t facing her direction. Actually, now that she looked closer, she had a slight inkling on which one was hers due to cup design. 

 

Bella gasped loudly and exaggeratedly exclaimed,“I thought I was the love of your life?! Damn Ang, thanks. You’re getting this one.” She moved her left hand forward, the one that was holding her order. Angela’s was in her right. 

 

“No, Bella, that one’s cold!” She made a move to reach for the other one, and sighed in relief when Bella didn't move away. They sipped their drinks in unison and sighed at the sweet taste. They looked up. Bella stared at Angela, and Angela stared at Bella. Their faces broke into warm smiles before they stepped forward for a hug. 

 

They talked about what they’ve done over the summer before walking closer towards the conveyor belt. Bella just wanted to flop on her bed, in all honesty. Bella stopped slightly behind Angela and angled her body towards her to continue their conversation. This way she could keep an eye on the luggage passing though as she they chatted. Somewhere between some milkshake incident and baking mishap by Ang’s brothers, she felt this urge, an itch almost, to look up and around. 

 

She looked past Ang’s shoulders and to her right. She awkwardly shifted her eyes away as soon as they made contact with someone else’s, trying to pass off the unexpected eye contact as just her gaze roaming about. She connected with a few different eyes. A pair of dark browns, hazel greens and this really pretty shade of dark prussian blue. That odd feeling mostly went away and she went back to focusing on their conversation before she spotted her suitcase. 

 

“Ooh! There!” It was big and brown and presumably heavy just from looking at it. However, she simply offered her drink to Angela. Then Bella simply stepped forward (mindful of the other people), and firmly gripped the handle with both hands. With ease, she lifted it and deposited at her feet, a few inches away from her converse.  

 

“Well, that doesn’t look heavy at all…” Angela commented dryly with deadpan voice. 

 

“Of course, it’s not Ang. Look at  _ these _ guns,” Bella replied cheekily as she struck a pose with her one free arm. There was not much to look at with her oversized hoodie. Nevertheless, Angela walked up to an awaiting Bella and linked their free arms together, balancing the drinks in between her arm and chest.. She made a show of feeling Bella’s arm up as she feigned cluelessness: “Oh, this gun? Bella, this is a handgun.” Bella pouted at this before smiling but made a gesture with her hand.  _ Pew-pew. _ She returned the other drink to her hand before it dropped and spilled its delicious contents like some sort of java ichor. 

 

“Oh, hey, want a taste?” Angela wrinkled her nose at the offending drink in her hand but proceeded to take a sip anyways. She liked its flavor but the temperature was wrong. 

 

“Are you going to call Charlie? To let him know?”

 

“Oh, shoot. You right.”

 

With Angela’s arm still linked with her arm, she began to lead Bella away. Bella struggled slightly to get her phone out of her pocket but she managed to free it from its cloth prison. 

 

Angela lead the distracted girl around to the elevator as she talked to her dad, where they would attempt to find Angela’s small car amidst the other small white cars. She loved her car, she really did, but it had been difficult to find it when she first got it. She could spot it anywhere now but sadly, Bella could not. She would occasionally position Bella’s straw closer to her mouth so that she could drink some as they were walking and talking. Hers was a tad hot and she would have to tilt her head back. Waiting till she got to her car would be the best choice.  

 

She could see Bella’s hand moving to get her attention. Now that she had it, she mouthed,“ _ Is it that one _ ?” while pointing to a white car. 

 

“No Bella.” 

 

Her call with Charlie ended with a ‘see you soon Dad!’ and again, she whispered, “What about that one?” 

 

“No, Bells.” She grinned at her antics. They continued this for about a minute more until Bella ran out of cars to point at within the vicinity. As they got closer to her car, she finally replied ‘ _ yes Bella _ ’ to her unspoken question. She received an animated response in return. 

 

She unlinked their arms and placed the drinks on the top of her car. She pulled out her car keys from her pocket with ease. With a  _ beep-beep _ , she opened the door and sat down, waiting for Bella to store away her luggage. She heard one door close and another open before Bella slide into the driver’s passenger seat. She was about to insert the key when -

 

“-do you want me to drive?” 

 

“No, Bells.”

 

“Are you sure though?” she continued. She was sure Angela had to have been behind the wheel for a while now. 

 

“Yeah. You literally just got off an airplane. Go to sleep or something.” 

 

“Wow, I’m so glad you appreciate my company and commentary so much. Maybe I  _ will _ go to sleep.” A slight pause as she contemplated her next sentence. “Actually, this is coffee so who knows…” 

 

With a chuckle, Angela backed the car and finally made her way out of the parking lot. It was getting kind of late now. The trees made the backdrop of nature’s sky seem darker and the sliver of the crescent moon was not nearly as bright as other nights. Especially not with its current shape. It was still quite something to look at. To Bella probably. She was the one that lived here longer. 

 

Meanwhile, Bella sipped greedily at the cold drink in her hands. She eased off only slightly when she felt that there was the small probability of getting a brain freeze. Those really hurt. She sighed a long and full, heavy sigh when she finally finished her drink. She snuggled into her hoodie and turned to look out her window, head leaning against her seatbelt in a mostly comfortable position. 

 

After stretch of silence, Angela looked to her companion and found her fast asleep. She knew it. She gripped the steering wheel and continued her smooth drive home. 

 

\---

  
A/N - Read and review, constructive criticism welcome, tell me what y’all think of this. Took me a very long time to even write. Felt like I should contribute to this unlikely ship that I very much enjoy. I  _ very _ vaguely have a plot sketched out, but send me prompts or ideas to incorporate or something. I apologize in advance for untimely chapter updates, but I will continue to write. Every word by word. 


	2. Home Home Home

Eleutheromania - (n.) an intense and irresistible desire for freedom

 

\---

 

The sensation of being gently awaken is one somewhat unfamiliar to Bella. Her passenger door is open, as is the driver’s door. There is the sound of crickets bowing away the way a string player in an orchestra might. Slow and soothing. If it were not a cricket. She sleepily hopes there aren’t any in the house. Through the grogginess of sleep, she manages to recognize that it is Angela that is indeed shaking her right shoulder to wake her up. She is only slightly confused as to /why/ she is being shaken. 

 

“C’mon Bella, wake up. We’re here.” Her voice is quiet, as though she knows that what she says won’t be received properly. She steps away to allow for her friend to properly wake up.

 

Bella hums in return, the sound something low and almost guttural, the way a morning voice might be. Or napping voice, as is the case at the moment. She opens her previously squinty eyes and moves her neck to the sides. One side is slightly more stiff than the other, and Bella makes sure to rub it until the area under her skin is warm before stretching again. Once satisfied, her arms are next and legs follow shortly after. 

 

The longer she is awake, the more alert she feels. She isn’t quite awake enough to sprint after little kids but she is awake enough to release her seatbelt with a steady grip. She steps out of the car, mindful of her knapsack still in the car, and close to where Angela is standing patiently. She rolls her shoulders back, feeling something, multiple somethings click into place. She puts her hand on her hip and twists to the right before repeating the process on the opposite side. She breathes in deeply before letting it all out in a major heave. She feels stupidly lethargic but satisfied now. Angela is still waiting patiently on the gravel of the driveway. 

 

“Done yet?” Okay, maybe not so patiently. Then again, she did take her sweet time cracking whatever needed cracking. 

 

She ignores the snark and instead drawls out, _ “Yes.” _

 

It is only now that she realizes that they are parked in front of her home. Obviously they wouldn't be anywhere else. It just… hadn’t clicked yet. Wow. The place where she will spend the next two years. She cracks a smile at that. She pulls her out backpack and slides her arms through the armholes. 

 

She then walks towards the rear end of the small car, hearing the gravel crunch under her Converse. The night seems quiet but she can vaguely hear the busy buzz of nature nearby. God, no more dead plants and fucking yellow and dry shrubs just outside the city limits. The few green trees and flowering plants always seemed sickly and out of place. Okay, maybe not sickly but the point is that she’s here now. Where things are fresh and green and new,  _ alive _ . The one place that she always looks forward to coming during school breaks and the like. Here, where the weather wakes you up and doesn’t make you feel as though you are on fire and melting. 

  
  


She breathes in the cool air deeply again. She feels around the car before her fingers finally find purchase in the dip of the door handle. Once open, she grabs her suitcase and lifts it out of the trunk with ease. She pops the handle out and rolls it along her driveway once she closes the trunk door. From there, she can see that there is a dim light coming from the white house. 

 

Handle in hand, Bella is unsure of what to do next actually. She shifts her weight from one foot to another before walking forward. Her life motto has always been fuck it, and whatever happens happens. Thankfully, it seems as though Angela had sensed her inner turmoil and decided to save her from mentally flailing about. She also steps forward and gives Bella a sort of side-arm hug, her left arm encircling Bella’s neck. She lets go with a jingle of her car keys and a goodbye of “Later Bella, see you tomorrow. Or when I see you. Or something…” 

 

Bella can only grin a sheepish sort of smile when her introvert habits are called out like this. And by another introvert, no less! At least Angela understands that she might need a few days to herself and then some following the ‘move.’ Getting adjusted and whatnot. Truly it’s a transparent excuse; most of her  _ important _ belongings are already here. Her favorite books, her gaming console, which had been a gift from Charlie, her music favorite CDs and movies. 

 

Either way, she is more at ease knowing that Angela will feed people this excuse, should they ask. In which they will, due to this being a somewhat small town. She groans when she thinks of how the first day of school will be. At least that’s still a handful of weeks away. 

 

She rolls the suitcase over the gravel, tugging in some parts in an attempt to make it smoother. She tugs harder, pulling up instead, when she reaches the steps leading up to the front door. The brown door is still the same as ever, contrasting and complimenting the white coat of paint of the outer house. 

 

Despite the late hour, and her slightly closed eyes, the corners of her mouth turn upwards as she raises her arm. She makes a loosely curled fist and raps her knuckles in a ‘shave-and-a haircut’ knock. 

 

The already low volume of the tv becomes lower. And the couch groans slightly, as though weight is being disturbed and distributed. There is a pause, one in which Bella assumes footsteps are being taken. There is a moment of what seems to be absolute silence. Finally there is a responding knock. 

 

She gets a ‘two-cents’ answer and her smile grows from its tiny size to one that could probably light up the darkness outside. There is the distinct sound that a deadbolt makes when it is twisted specifically in such a way so as to signify that a door is now open. Open sesame works too, but dramatic moments such as these need to be different. 

 

Obviously she knows who it is, and normally the dim lightning coming from inside and the dark from the outside should make it hard to see who it is. But she can see him quite clearly. Low and behold, there is Charlie. 

 

“Dad!”

 

There is a smile that mirrors her own, before his arms are open. “Bella!”

 

There’s familiar arms enveloping her, arms that she equated to tree trunks as a little girl but that connotation has long faded. Bella’s head reaches just past Charlie’s shoulders, and she always wishes she could’ve passed him in height. But then she thinks it through a little more and she is quite satisfied with her average height. 

 

He squeezes once more before releasing her and asking, “How was your flight kiddo?” He steps back to let Bella and her luggage in. Once she’s properly inside, he closes the door, deadbolt and all. As they walk straight towards the living room, Bella deposits her suitcase at the base of the stairs on her right. She removes her rucksack and it soon joins the suitcase on the floor. She can see the dim light of the kitchen light across from the stairs. 

 

“Absolutely  _ fascinating _ , and long,” she replies at last, an odd combination of deadpan and thoughtfulness coating her vocal chords as the words come out. She glances at the tv and queries, “What’re you watching?” 

 

“Reruns. Come sit.” He sits on the couch that was backed up against the stairs. She idly remembers that she would sit between the banisters as a child. Sometimes to watch a game, but mostly to just be around her father. He’d always hear her though, and pat the seat next to him, nevering minding that her bedtime was long past. At least now she wouldn’t fall asleep and have to be carried.

 

Now this is comfortable. Charlie doesn’t fuss over her like Renée does. They have their chatty moments before they sink back into the familiar agreeableness of silence and observation. He can see that she is just fine and leaves her be, trusting that she’ll speak up when she feels like it. Like father, like daughter, she muses. The volume of the television increases slightly, just two small bars, she notes, landing on an even number. She finally notices that it is a baseball game. 

 

Her knowledge of sports is fairly limited, seeing as they don’t interest her overly so. Pee wee soccer didn’t count. Usually she’d have a book to get distracted with, and when a team would score (either team, really) she’d attempt a half-hearted ‘ _ whoop’ _ or ‘ _ yay _ .’ Charlie would ‘ _ hmm’ _ and ‘ _ mmm’ _ , as well as grunt occasionally, with a scowl accompanying it. 

 

She continues on this way, lost in her thoughts, and before long the game is over. Charlie switches off the television before tossing the remote on the couch, watching it bounce with a sort of anticipation, and he sighs in relief with it doesn’t fall. 

 

He picks up a plate from what seems to be out of nowhere but in reality was on the floor under the armrest. He takes it to the sink as Bella is putting her bag on, /once again/, and she reaches for the handle of her magical contraption on wheels. She reaches the top of the stairs soon enough, Charlie following soon after. 

 

“Hey, Bells? It’s good to have you here.”

 

She smiles back at him and mutters, “Thanks Dad.” 

 

Well, that was about as emotional as he got. Her too. Still, she appreciates the effort. He takes a left and she takes a right. She makes a mental note to brush her teeth in the bathroom just parallel from the stairs. Or was it perpendicular? Either way, it’s at the end of the hallway. After she drops her stuff and finds her pjs though. 

 

As expected, she finds her room mostly untouched when she pushes open the door. The door that childishly have the letters b-e-l-l-a in colorful stickers. Other than that, it’s unadorned and she hasn’t the heart to take them down. How else would she know which is her room when she’s sleepy and barely functioning?

 

And there, on her bed is the absolutely most important thing to ever exist in the entire goddamn universe:  _ Spoons _ . God, she missed him so much. The temperamental cat probably prioritized a nap over her. Or he was just confident that she would eventually come looking for him, hence the reason why he was on her bed. On her pillow specifically. As she steps forward into her room, rolling her stuff in, the black menace lifts its head up to look at her with its yellow-green eyes. She approaches with soft footsteps. 

 

He meows.

 

He meows again, louder this time and his mouth opening more than previously, showing off sharp canines. Bella watches in amusement as he sluggishly gets up, taking a long pause to stretch, arching this way and that. He stands on his paws and moves, crouching down and Bella realizes almost a second too late that he is going to jump. 

 

Her brain can’t help but think and think and think  _ ho don’t do it, ho don’t do it, ho don’t _ \--

 

“Oh my god.”

 

He jumps. Quick reflexes and  _ something else _ ensure that he is safe in her arms. She wonders why she wasn’t the least bit surprised but pushes the thought away as the cat in her arms squirms. His claws dig in, and Bella feels it through her hoodie and hisses silently at the sensation. Up he goes, onto her shoulders, ready to conquer the world apparently. 

 

She sighs and frowns in an exaggerated manner before muttering, “You could’ve just asked, y’know.”

 

He  _ chirps _ now, the sound right against Bella’s right ear. He’s probably fucking delighted. She smiles now and is mindful of his warm weight against her back. “Be careful now, okay?” she tells him. She bends her knees and slowly picks up her forgotten luggage and sets it gently on the bed.

 

As she unzips the zipper, she can’t help but remember how they got him. It had all started one morning, a few days before Bella was to return to Arizona. She was around 11 or 12 at the time, if she remembers correctly. 

 

She doesn’t exactly remember which school break it was. The weather just felt nice here in Washington. Being a precocious child, she had the hatched the perfect plan. She had done some research at the library when Charlie would take her. He never quite seemed to know what to do there. He’d sit at the chairs or couch, guarding over her ever-growing pile of books the way a dragon would with a hoard of gold, watching her make continuous trips between the aisles and the checkpoint of the couch. When she was even smaller, head reaching his waist, he would trail her and take whatever book she had for him to read. No matter how long it was. Or how many books would stack up in his arms.

 

She smiles at the memory. She starts by taking out her socks and shirts, laying them out on the bed. 

 

\---

 

She had been watching a game with Charlie that night. She had asked, in that young quiet voice of hers, knowing that she had a good chance of making it work. The commercials were playing but for once, Charlie had muted the television. 

 

“Dad? Don’t you ever get lonely?” She took a big bite of her sandwich. While she was munching, she viewed her father’s profile from the corner of her eyes. She would cue the puppy eyes in case Charlie looked her way. 

 

“Course not, B, I’ve got you here,” he replied, eyes still on the t.v., his sandwich long gone by then. He was steadily diminishing his pile of potato chips, chasing them down with a swig from his beer. 

 

“But when I go back to Mom, I mean. I’m not here to make noises and wake you up and stuff.”

 

“Not really. You’re a pretty quiet kid.” He smiled and chuckled here, no doubt thinking of all the ways Bella has possibly ever made some actual noise in his house. 

 

She scowled at this. “No, I’m not.”

 

“Hmm you're right!” He turned to tickle her, getting delighted peals and shrieks in response. It only ended when Bella seeked the refuge of the floor. No, she didn’t fall. Obviously. 

 

“I’m serious. Daddy, you should get a dog!” Here she presented her best Wow-what-a-great-idea-that-I-just-thought-of face. Complete with wide eyes and eyebrows that jumped up towards her forehead, delighted smile on her mouth. Way different from her I’m-planning-something face. That one was more of narrowed eyes and staring off into a random point in space, lips mildly pursed in concentration. She even used his parent moniker that she had been starting to drop from her vocabulary recently. She was growing up now, no point in continuing with it. Unless it was used for special occasions. Like now. 

 

“Ah.” So that was what this was all about. What to say, what to say? “Hm, no, I think not. They require lots of time and attention. Just like you!”

 

“Hey! Well, what about a fish?” Present an equally debatable option that was  _ way _ on the opposite end. The weakest point in her presentation, so to say. She had to come off strong with the dog and then drop the bar with a fish. 

 

Here he blushed a bit, the tips of his ears growing red and his tanned cheeks seemed to grow darker. “I think... that I would forget to feed it,” he mumbled. Fish didn’t do anything! Maybe a bubble or two on the occasion, right? Except for those suction fish, they clean or something, he thought. 

 

“Pfft.” She laughed quietly, wheezes exiting her chest as she shook. When she recovered and his skin had cooled by then, she said, “Well, what about a cat, Dad? They’re independent right? Plus they catch rodents and stuff.”

 

He stared at the television in quiet contemplation. Elbows rested on his knees, face in his hands as he carefully and  _ really _ thought about a possible pet in the house. Most likely it wouldn’t like him, whatever it was, for reasons known only to him. Plus he would be at work for most of the day, now that he was Chief. 

 

Okay,  _ hypothetically _ , it would have to keep out of trouble. Something small and quiet. Something that would not bark at all hours of the night and well into the morning. Not a fish though. Too fishy. 

 

“Please Dad? I get worried sometimes. You’re here all the time and I’m not. You need some company Dad!”

 

“Worried? Ah, Bella, you shouldn't have to worry about me; I’m the biggest and baddest thing out here. Criminals flee from me!” He struck a pose here, intent on making his daughter laugh again.

 

“Like the wolf, from red riding hood? Or a bear? Like from Brother Bear!” she inquired, forgetful of or ignoring the fact that the wolf has very different outcomes in the different stories. And Brother Bear! She loved that movie. 

 

“Sure Bella,” he smiled indulgently, knowingly almost. Though that didn’t quite answer her question. Or maybe he did. He technically said yes to both. That was an answer right?

 

...

 

“So are we getting a cat?”

 

“Who’s this ‘we’ you speak of?” 

 

Nonetheless, he had woken up early the next morning. As he was sipping his required cup of joe, he was also skimming and flipping through the yellow pages. He had to search for the darned thing. In a small town like this, he knew where almost everything was. But because he had little interest in animals, he never thought it handy to remember the pet shop hours. Seemed like now was as good a time as any. 

 

And so, he called for the shop hours. And as he stood to place his now empty cup in the sink, Bella came stalking down the stairs. She wasn’t quite awake yet, if the hand rubbing her eye was any indication. “Eggs and juice?” he asked quietly. 

 

“Mhmm.”

 

Ah, yes, the monosyllabic answers. Typical. He watched her open her mouth in a yawn capable of competing against a lion’s. She pulled the chair, the legs of it making a scraping noise against the tile. She sat down. There was one way he could remedy this. There was no sugar coating something like this. He had to drop this bomb.

 

“We’re going to the pet shop today.” Quietly muttered words that he actually wasn’t entirely sure that she heard him. 

 

The hand that was about to rub the other neglected eye dropped slowly. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time that morning. She raspily responded, “Really?”

 

At his nod, the chair again made it’s grating noise. Her footsteps could be heard going up the stairs at a much faster pace than when she first came down. And that was that, so Charlie got to work on those eggs. He even opened a package of bacon that he’d been meaning to use up. 

 

When Bella came down once more, she was all dressed up for the day. Shoes in hand, she sat down in her chair and waited impatiently for Charlie to serve breakfast. Charlie smirked and took his sweet time pouring her juice. He poured it slowly, “Like this?”

 

“More!”

 

“How about now?” 

 

_ “Daaaad!” _

 

Bella immediately started to scoop up her eggs when he finally placed a plate in front of her. The bacon was temporarily ignored, at least for now. By the time Bella finished, Charlie was only halfway done. And so she waited and waited, and then waited some more. When he stood to take his plate the kitchen, she’s quick to get him his car keys. 

 

When they are finally on their way to their destination, she had calmed down enough. Almost too much now; she had a thoughtful look on her face. Still, they made it to the pet shop in one piece. Charlie suspected that Bella would’ve jumped out the car before it stopped completely, had he not given her a stern look. 

 

The small bell above the door signaled their entrance to both the employees and animals, heads turning to briefly look their way and ears twitching up, respectively. Charlie offered a nod to the employee closest to them. Bella just walked the big space, looking for cat stuff in general. He had informed her of his plan to buy supplies here. And explained that perhaps it would be better to get a cat from an adoption or rescue center. To this she agreed with vehemently. Mentally, Bella lamented the fact that she didn’t come up with the idea first. 

 

And just like library trips when she was younger, Charlie ended up carrying the heavy stuff. The cat food bag was under one arm, litter under the other, and the canned food was in his other hand. Bella herself was gladly carrying all the little things—collar, harness, a toy or two, treats, brush. Well, these were inside the cat carrier actually. There was a small cat bed atop the carrier, barely below Bella’s line of vision. 

 

The overloaded pair made their way over to the cash register, where the cashier did not seemed the least phased by their purchases. Of course he didn’t, he worked at a pet store. He probably saw such purchases similar to theirs all the time. 

 

The bell once again signaled that the door had opened, though this time it watched Bella and Chief Swan leave. It made for a mildly comical sight. A tall man and a tiny girl loading all of their purchases into the small car from their overwhelmed arms. Still, they managed to stuff everything into the car, most of it in the front passenger’s seat. 

 

Next trip was to the center. There they walked in, a mosey sort of walk, now that Bella’s energy had decreased from its previous levels. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the door, Bella flitted from container to container, searching for the perfect companion. Her future partner in crime. She didn’t notice that the animals here seemed to warily watch Charlie. 

 

A siamese cat caught her attention first, its gradients of color mostly concentrating on its paws and tail. Pale blue eyes watched her carefully, contrasting sharply in comparison to the rest of its body. She had to find a younger cat, she thought, a frown molding her face. She slowly checked out the different types of cats. 

 

None with long fur, Dad would have to live with it and it would probably drive him insane. But no hairless ones either, Dad would get creeped out at night if he got up for a glass of water or something. In the midst of these thoughts, she did not notice that she had stopped walking. 

 

Bella wondered why her shoes were just  _ there _ . Then she realized she had wandered off. She glanced up and met the liquid chartreuse eyes of yet another cat. A black cat. One that was watching her just as intently as she was him. Its tail flicked some newspaper aside in anticipation. Excitement maybe? or just curiosity? It meowed, the sound muffled slightly by the glass partition. 

 

“Hey, Dad?” asked Bella quietly, as though hesitant to raise her voice, hesitant to startle the cat. She turned to locate him and found him a few feet from her, eyeing a cat from a respectful distance away. “How about this one?” 

 

And the rest was history, as one would say. They went up to someone who worked there and Bella stopped paying attention as they talked about paperwork. She was asked if she would like to pick a name. She had waited for this glorious moment. 

 

_ “Spoons _ ,” she said confidently. Charlie chuckled quietly at the lady’s face. He disguised it as a cough once she turned back to him. Father and daughter walked out with a new member. Their tiny duo turned into a perfect trio that rare sunny day. 

 

\---

 

By the time Bella finishes reminiscing, her clothes are out of her suitcase, most of them already in their designated spots. She couldn’t fall from the bed if it was against the wall. Not that she moved much as a child, but Reneé always worried. And since the cool wall usually provides temporary relief from the warm sheets, she never bothers to relocate her furniture. Both here and back in Phoenix. 

 

She picks up some tank tops and makes her way around the bed, forward, where the drawer is across from the bed and against the other wall. Spoons decides that he apparently doesn’t want his human to move. He jumps from his perch on her shoulder, his little paws pushing back against her shoulder when he does jump. She glances at him briefly, more out of habit than actual concern; he’s jumped from higher places, she’s certain. Still, her gaze lingers on his retreating form before she turns back around. He’ll be back by the time she’s tucked into bed.  She places the tank tops somewhat haphazardly in their spots in the second drawer, amongst their brethren.

 

From the corner of her room, she surveys her room. It is just as she left it. Of course it would be. Still, she can’t help but mentally categorize the various items in her pastel room. It’s still that soft, sea green color that Bella is always thankful for. At least her room isn’t yellow like the kitchen. She does like those cupboards actually, she grew up with them. But she still finds it curious whenever she thinks too deeply about it. 

 

Her average tv is neighboring with her PlayStation on the drawer. Games and controllers and charging wires and electronic things of the sort are in the first drawer. Lazy clothes, pjs and otherwise, are on the last drawer. 

 

She walks forwards, her clothed feet making little noise against the wood flooring. Her desk could use some minor dusting, she idly remarks. The dust is easy to spot against the black coloring. She pulls out the swivel chair and sits, grasping onto the lever, and bringing the chair low. She struggles against the lack of friction but manages to bring her chair over to the window. 

 

Well, two windows really but she always thinks of it as her corner window, despite the small sliver of wall separating the two. She’s tempted to open one, to smell the fresh Washington air. But the room is the right temperature and it smells like home. Smells like the detergents Charlie buys. And when she’ll finally settle for the night, she knows that she will bury her nose in the sheets and pillows, delighted at the scents and homey feelings in her chest. She feels so fucking happy and warm inside that she thinks she’s crazy. 

 

Exhaling a happy sigh, she chuckles at the sight of her bookshelf. It is a miracle that no books have fallen yet, that is how stuffed it seems to be. It could also be the fact that Bella hasn’t really put her books away properly. She has this horrible habit of reading something halfway and getting distracted with another book. She makes another mental note to fix it tomorrow. Or soon. 

 

Actually, it seems as though the new book she bought at the airport will have to be placed on her bedside table. Alongside her small lamp and even tinier alarm clock, with its green digital numbers. 

 

Bella releases another sigh and attempts to kick off her sneakers before realizing that she can’t quite do that. Darn Converse with their shoelaces. She bends down to yank at the aglets, then moves to untie the knot when that doesn’t work (surprise, surprise). She steps past the boundary of her door and into the bathroom to complete her nightly rituals. Once done she heads back to her room with inaudible footsteps. 

 

Now that the sweet mint is coating her teeth, she hunts down some appropriate pjs. Some shorts and an old t-shirt from her suitcase do the trick. She’s glad past Bella had the foresight to pack the pjs atop of everything else. She yawns. Loudly. She’ll finish unpacking tomorrow. She leaves the door slightly open for Spoons to come back through and goes about fixing her bed. She gets in bed and kicks the covers off. Her head is resting against her soft pillow and she thinks about what time is it before she reaches out to check her clock. It’s mildly late. Late as in she should sleep now. She has slept at later times but lately she’s been trying to sleep more. Sleep is good. Really good, and with those thoughts, she fumbles around for a floppy cushion to hug in the comforting dark. 

 

She finds it and whistles lightly, the sound beckoning the listener with its airy wings. A sleek predator, a domestic substitute for a panther, hears the call but remains where he is at the moment, content to stare out the window a little longer. The moon is bright and it illuminates his eyes. Spoons comes trotting through a while later, once he is sure that his master is sound asleep. 

 

\---

 

Sand. That grainy substance that irritates people at the beach. Its other form, glass, is something to be marveled at. Usually. The versatility of glass and other such natural materials provides for the basics in construction, beauty, and amongst other such projects, houses. However, certain houses are anything  _ but _ ordinary and its occupants even less so. 

 

For one thing, a house in the middle of the woods might resemble a small cabin more than anything else. Rustic and classic, traditional almost. The modern behemoth is nothing like that and is instead a curious mixture of such elements. Its wood panels attempt to camouflage and blend it with the surrounding stalks of green; however, the vast quantity of windows belies this and a visitor is left with the distinct thought of,  _ lamp _ . Lightly lit, warm, and welcoming, which was the intent of its designer, one Esme Cullen. 

 

This particular effect is achieved best at night, when the lights combat against the neighboring darkness in a game of tag. But out in the wilderness, the middle of  _ nowhere _ almost, who would stumble upon this glass castle, this looking glass mirage? Why, but the inhabitants of course. And those who know of its existence and exact location. And other curious wildlife, though naive animals perhaps. Comrades usually pass the message along to avoid these harbingers of death.  _ The blond Raphael has yet to come home, and most of his angelic companions are in _ , they pass along tonight. 

 

Thus, the animals are no longer curious; they retreat to much safer distances. And the insects buzz louder in their freedom and knowledge that they are safe. Esme Cullen is not privy to these conversations, and longs to see a playful fox or a harmless hare roaming about.

 

Instead she stops looking out the windows, or walls almost (that’s how large they are), turns her attention back at hand. Or the cutting board rather. She is just finishing up grating some carrots and picks one of the tomatoes nearby. Another addition to the salad that she decides on a whim. Rosalie and Carlisle are the ones that eat greens the most. Well, they eat them best actually. Emmett and Alice put up half hearted complaints and fuss about it sometimes. Edward really should eat more, in general, not just greens, she thinks. Jasper has his times and intervals on when he eats. He still struggles sometimes. 

 

“Need any help, Mom?” Emmett asks, entering the kitchen from somewhere else in the house. 

 

He smells the food and is instantly floored; it smells that good. It's not some fancy schmancy meal from an overpriced restaurant. It’s one of those,  _ giant _ welcome home meals. An Esme specialty, he would say if asked. He comes closer and whisks the gravy that Esme left unattended. He braves a taste test, cornering some of the sauce with a spoon. Using his pinky, he savors the taste, letting its texture and flavors roam over his tongue. He is almost satisfied with it. He thinks carefully about what can be added and looks to what Esme is preparing in the kitchen as another hint.  _ Perfect. _ He opens up the cupboards above him and reaches for a specific seasoning. With a dash befitting of a chef (he’s getting kind of rusty, he admits), he tastes it once again and leaves it on the stove to simmer. Up above him, Edward’s playing is decreasing into a gentle diminuendo. He’ll start another song soon, something longer this time. 

 

He spots a bag on the counter that he left to thaw earlier and opens it eagerly. He turns around to find a specific drawer and from there pulls out a sheet pan. He gingerly places the biscuits from the bag onto the sheet, setting them at equal distances apart from each other. This is the last thing to do before the rest of the food is done. He debates about whether or not to put them in the oven. He mentally shrugs and waits another few seconds, firm in his decision. He pops the oven open and deposits the biscuit laden tray on a heated row, wafts of hot air searching his face before disappearing in the cooler air outside the oven.  _ Alice would’ve called _ , he reasons,  _ if they were going to be late or if he should’ve put the goods in at a later time _ . 

 

By this time Esme is tending the roast beef. The salad is done, he sniffs. He has nothing against salads; it’s just that there are better things to eat. Like potatoes! He spots the golden corn in its milky soup next to it. Esme seems to guess that he’d gravitate towards what needed to be tended and asks, “Would you smash the potatoes, dear?”

 

He grabs the necessary ingredients from the fridge (cheese and butter amongst them) and makes his way back to his beloved potatoes. He sets about to making the perfect side dish. He is just about to place the used utensils in the sink when he hears tires coming up the driveway. It is around this time that he realizes that piano notes can no longer be heard. He eyes the stairs curiously as he hears Edward hurriedly walk down the stairs. After he is done playing the piano, he always seems to forget that he can come down the stairs faster than that. Still, he can’t be /that/ excited to see Rosalie and Alice. Maybe the latter, but he racks his brain anyways for an answer that doesn’t seem forthcoming any time soon. Maybe something happened…?

 

\---

 

The trip from Port Angeles back to the outskirts of Forks is uneventful. It is calm and  _ fast _ and gone too soon, if she is describing it accurately. Normally she drives around the speed limit, a little below, a little above, but not today. At Alice’s insistence Rosalie drives well above than what she normally drives at. It’s not concerning, and her crimson car is small enough to constitute what she does as ‘weaving in and out of traffic.’ Her superior senses, aided by Alice’s clairvoyance, prevent any crashes or run ins with police officers. It’s getting late but not yet late enough by their standards. Her fruity concoction is quite delicious, she decides. She might ask Alice for the exact order next time. 

 

And so, they reach the smooth pavement leading up to their home in good time. It is only in the forest that she eases up on the gas pedal. The windows are rolled down and she thinks she can catch the faintest of whiffs of freshly cooked food. As they wheel closer, Rose realizes that her nose is entirely correct (not that it wouldn’t be) but the home cooked scent is stronger now. She breathes it in deeply. 

 

She is barely pulling the car to a stop when Edward flies out the door. He is mindful not to let the door hit its surroundings, but there is no other way to describe what he just did besides  _ flying _ . She can feel a small sprout of annoyance and displeasure beginning to grow; her eyebrow twitches upwards the slightest of degrees. Imperceptible almost, it settles down not a fraction of a heartbeat later. 

 

He is at Alice’s door immediately, although he stands clear of the door’s radius and waits impatiently for her to step out. As soon as she is out, he asks fervently, “Alice, what did you see? Alice.” 

 

Rosalie opens her own door and closes it not so quietly. She’s careful, of course; it is her car after all. Edward pays no mind to the noise. It probably doesn’t even register with the storm of thoughts he’s barraged by. Hazel eyes wide, Alice smiles and it is something of a cheshire cat. Her response is of gentle, playful chastisement. “We’re hungry, Eddie. Let’s eat first, okay?”

 

He blinks at this. Twice actually. “Right. Of course. Let me help with your bag. Sorry,” he mutters the last word quietly as he makes his way to the trunk. He forgot his manners in his excitement!  _ Excitement? Maybe that’s the wrong word _ , he contemplates, hand on the handle and his other shutting the trunk gently. He had only managed to get a glimpse of Alice’s fast thoughts before they had shifted to the latest trend in music and world news. He frowns at her scattered thoughts, wondering about what she wanted to tell them. He decides to mentally recite the notes to Chopin’s ‘Torrent’ as a way to assuage his curiosity and distract himself. Alice’s patience could weather storms and dull rocks to a smooth finish. Though she has her specific gift so maybe it doesn’t really count…

 

Rosalie is mirroring his frown, just a minute pull downward resting on her lips. A perfectly shaped eyebrow arches in thought. Alice had not mentioned anything of the  _ psychic _ sort. It must be big, she decides neutrally, big enough for a family meeting if that is indeed what her sister is planning. The food is still beckoning and she follows her two adoptive siblings up the porch steps. 

 

Rosalie walks into the kitchen to the sound of a timer beeping. “Biscuits are done!” she hears from Emmett, who quickly dons an oven mitt to retrieve the freshly baked goods. Esme leaves a towel near the sink before coming forward to greet Alice. She did enter first after all. Rosalie herself is engulfed in warm, motherly hug before a question is spouted off in Alice’s general direction. “How was your trip, dear?” 

 

And the gates are open. The little pixie brightens up even more as she answers Esme’s inquiry with details of her own. Edward smiles slightly at the mental and verbal images she provides. Emmett is enraptured too, though his reaction is to blow hot air around and fan his mouth because he stuffed a piping hot biscuit in his cheeks. This elicits a real and fond smile from Rosie as she takes in the lighthearted scene. 

 

She chuckles at Emmett’s  _ come kiss it better _ , that’s directed to an attentive Edward. Although she and Edward don’t always see eye to eye, she’s glad that he’s been starting to open up more with Emmett, in terms of affection. She suspects it is mostly due to the changing of times and attitudes, in comparison to a mere few decades ago. Rosalie has already heard all of Alice’s details so she mostly just tunes her out. She decides to get to work on setting the oval table. Alice had mentioned that Carlisle would be home soon to dine with them. 

 

She locates all of the necessary tableware and positions them where everyone will be seated. She places plates everywhere but one seat, Jasper’s. Seeing as he isn’t here, she doesn’t bother. Still, she frowns at the empty seat that is usually reserved for her twin. 

 

She’s heading back to the kitchen when keys turn the deadbolt and the door opens. She blinks at the fact that the deadbolt was actually used and that she didn’t notice. She ponders the thought that either Alice or Esme slid the deadbolt closed. Out here, in the middle of nowhere in a forest, with  _ them _ living here, it wasn’t as though it was actually needed. Predictably, Carlisle also clicks the deadbolt with a firm twist. 

 

He drops off his leather satchel at the base of the coat stand by the door. It’s old and faded and Rosalie actually isn’t entirely sure of how old it is. He greets Esme next, a kiss on the check as he’s passing by her to help transport the various foods to the table. 

 

Once they see the matriarch and patriarch take bowls to the table, the rest follow suit. The kitchen is emptied and the table is filled. They take their seats, which don’t always have a specific arrangement. Again, food is passed around and spoons deposit delectable heaps of food onto the spotless ceramics. 

 

“How was today?” Carlisle asks genially and generally, eagerly awaiting updates from his coven. Although they are adults, he often feels more at ease playing the role of parent to his adopted children. He passes the warm biscuits to Esme on his right. 

 

Alice contributes first, offering varying details from what she originally described to Rosalie and Esme. Rosalie oftens wonders how she does it, repeating the same answers and seeing the same things. Even Emmett and Edward chip in their two cents; that’s how descriptive Alice is. Though it also helps that Edward saw it secondhand. Only once the describing trio have exhausted their details do they move onto events that actually happened today. 

 

Edward describes his struggles with guitar, his fingers not used to the positionings. His eyebrows furrow slightly but he’s excited by his new project. Esme her new plans for client. She smiles radiantly when she mentions plants and little possible designs. Emmett delights in his science experiments that, due to the relative isolation, can explode in the backyard. He switches to a brief review of sorts on a new game he’s keen to play, though Rosalie can tell that it is also a subtle invitation to play. Rosalie even divulges a detail or two about a car part she’s placed an order on. Carlisle muses on something experimental at the hospital. Slowly the food from the table and china is steadily disappearing.  _ So much for leftovers _ , Emmett sighs. 

 

However, it is Alice that provides delicate information. Just before, she had called Jasper and put the call on speaker. 

 

_ Serious, if it needs everybody’s input _ , Rosalie thinks as Jasper picks up the call. She can see Edward nod consciously, as though she had spoken aloud. Her lips quirk down at his action. Jasper waits patiently for what is sure to come. Alice turns to Esme and Carlisle, eyes slightly unfocused as she recalls the memory. “I saw a girl today at Port Angeles… I  _ saw _ her but then I didn’t.” 

 

When she speaks again, there is a mixture of excitement and curiosity and slight concern. “Sometimes I see people just to see what they’re going to do. It’s automatic and fast and it never fails. My gift, it took a while on this girl, and even then it wasn’t entirely concrete. Like seeing a transparent ghost,” she elaborately chronicles for those without mind reading abilities. She can see that Edward is frowning behind his enclosed hands. 

 

“Is she a potential threat?” Jasper breaks the silence first. Though they can’t see him, they can certainly catch the tone of protectiveness that coats his voice. 

 

“Not sure yet...” It’s Edward who replies next, though rather distractedly. He’s scanning the memories that Alice is helpfully replaying. His eyes are closed as he attempts to see her impressions as his own. 

 

“I don’t want to move yet. Not so soon,” comes the displeased response from Rosalie. She has a general vague idea of where this conversation might go. Emmett quietly backs her up, seeing that Edward’s own opinion is not going to be presented without all the facts. 

 

“No one’s going to move.”

 

The coven swivels to face their matriarch. Though they vote on matters such as these, her say carries much weight. The cautious atmosphere lessens slightly at her firm and positive stance. She speaks again, gently, as though not wanting to ruffle her gathered thoughts, “Did you happen to catch a name?”

 

“Yes, I did! First name only though.  _ Bella _ .”

 

“Bella?” Blonde eyebrows wrinkle his contemplative face as Carlisle finally speaks. The group waits for him to express his thoughts again. A few seconds pass by, and when it is apparent that he is busy within his mind, Jasper’s voice comes through the phone to interrupt. “Carlisle?” 

 

“Right, well.. It’s merely hospital gossip but, Chief Swan’s daughter is coming to finish up her schooling here. Her name is Isabella. Of course, it’s all just chatter until we know for certain but…”

 

When Jasper speaks again, it is directed to the mind reader, “Is it the same person Edward?”

 

“Carlisle hasn’t seen her yet.” Gossip is gossip but more than likely, the employees are less concerned with how this Isabella actually looked like. In fact, the memories in Carlisle’s mind demonstrate that they are more chatty about the past divorce and its aftermath. How depressed and heartbroken the Chief had been and how he got better the more she came to visit.

 

“We shouldn’t stay here.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course we can.” 

 

Everyone looks on as the twins butted heads. Before it could get any worse, Edwards interrupts with his own reasoning. As the cautious one, he likes to get all the information he can before coming to a decision. “If Alice’s visions are unclear, then there is going to be a risk in staying.”

 

“There’s  _ always _ going to be a risk; it’s against our very nature to settle down. Besides, Alice said it took a  _ while _ , not that she didn’t see her at all.” 

 

Well, looks like Rosalie really did not want to move. For that matter, neither did Esme. She loves this small town and its rich environment and friendly inhabitants. They could hear the small hum of vexation through the phone. His twin sibling did provide some good counterpoints. 

 

“The best course would be to gather information, but not at the risk of exposing ourselves.”

 

“We’ve been doing a pretty good job of blending in though. Carlisle works enough hours, Esme goes grocery shopping every week. Heck, Edward even goes to church sometimes. Wouldn’t people get more suspicious if we just up and left?” Emmett calmly disagrees with Jasper. They worked too hard at integrating to just  _ flee _ . He understood that Jasper’s background played a great part in the way he dealt with uncertain situations like these, but… “I want to stay.”

 

“Moving would be safer.” Edward reiterates. Looks like they were putting things to a vote now. Three for staying and two for leaving.  _ If Alice had trouble with her gift, what about us? _ he wants to voice. But he doesn’t for fear of backtracking. They will cross that bridge if and when they vote in favor of staying. 

 

“I feel as though we are missing the bigger picture,” Carlisle started, “yes, there are always going to be risks. But it seems as though Bella is only here to finish her education. As it is, we are more of a risk to her and every other student and adult that we pass by, whether they know it or not. We don’t know if she will pose a  _ threat _ , nonetheless she’s human. However, we are here to  _ coexist _ .”

 

Seeing that he had his coven members mulling over his words, he continues, “Jasper, the best course of action seems to be gathering more information. She could merely be the exception to Alice’s gift. We’ve traveled but we certainly have not met every individual in the world. There’s no guarantee that there  _ aren’t _ others like her. I wish to stay and wait things out.”

 

“Alice?”

 

She isn’t sure who spoke but she looks up from her line of sight. Her concentration is on the future. Not just the coven’s but of various people living in Forks. Since they seem fine, and their futures are not disturbed, she finally opens her mouth. “Nobody seems to die in any of my visions, so… it seems  _ safe _ to stay. I want to stay and see what happens.” She directs this last sentence more to the phone on the table than the others. 

 

Struggling to see someone’s future? Obvious downsides but the upsides… She is very much curious and excited to meet this person. At this point even Edward is grudgingly agreeing with her thoughts. 

  
“Well, that settles it! I want dessert! Who wants some ice cream?” Emmett gleefully declares as he picks up some plates and carries them over to the kitchen sink. They get to stay! He practically skips over to the fridge and pulls out his pistachio ice cream. Edward silently slinks after him and wraps his arms around Emmett’s robust torso as he places the blue carton next to where the spoons are located. He wants a hug; he wants comfort. He rests his head on Emmett’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and tries to block out everyone’s thoughts of  _ what to do _ and  _ what tomorrow’s agenda is like _ . Emmett smirks as Edward quietly accepts a spoonful of pistachio ice cream; he likes it while his copper haired companion is mostly befuddled by the odd flavor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Here's chapter two and I'm working on chapter 3. Leave comments and kudos! I think that's how ao3 works... feedback and suggestions are very much welcome since I still only have a really vague outline and I have absolutely no idea how romance works. I'm aiming for 5k words or so for each chapter so no need to worry about length.


	3. Mission? Establish Routine

For once, Charlie does not sleep in. He doesn’t usually sleep in, due to work, but he does wake up earlier than he usually does when he sleeps in. He specifically made sure that he would enter work at a later time today than his established time. He walks downstairs in his pajamas, groggily rubbing at his eye with one hand and covering up a humongous yawn with the other. His eyes water slightly at the force of it. 

 

Even through the deep penetrating fog of sleep, he realizes something as he is passing through the living room. He steps into his slippers and sees a pair of shoes that are most decidedly not his. 

 

Almost comically, it clicks.  _ Oh yeah, Bella’s here now. _

 

When confronted with something new, his brain takes the most obvious way, the path of least resistance, so to say.  _ Well, time to make breakfast for two then. _

 

He would’ve picked her up himself, he reminisces. But as it was, a week ago or so, he mentioned that Bella was staying in Washington to the Webers and they subtly commented on the fact that Angela was heading over to Port Angeles that same day. What a coincidence! He guessed that they must’ve mentioned as such to their daughter because the next day, Bella gave him a call, telling him to not worry about picking her up, that Angela would drop her off. Seeing as the two friends had not seen each other since the last school break, he agreed and awaited her arrival with reruns. 

 

And that’s just the kind of man Charlie is. Straightforward, frank, and uncomplicated. Ordinary. Well, almost. Bella would probably call him  _ chill _ . Still, he’s glad that Bella’s mostly picked up these traits from him. He’s in the kitchen when he  _ really _ thinks about Bella’s presence here. He’s glad. He is sure Spoons is as well. 

 

Speaking of which, where did that cat go? He whistles lightly, heading over to where his bowl is and pouring some dry food out for him. He shakes it once before setting it down and moves to get ingredients out from the kitchen to cook breakfast. Actually...with eggs and ham in hand, he sets them down on the counter to make coffee, the most important thing. He powers up the simple machine and pushes some buttons to get it to work. Now that that’s done, he resumes his morning task. 

 

He shreds the ham into the pan and waits for it to fry. Once it is frying, he adds the multiple eggs. He is hovering the pan above the stove, reaching over with his other hand to find a plate when he hears a thump near the stairs. He glances over briefly to confirm his working theory that Bella skipped the last step and jumped, not that she tripped. 

 

“Hey kiddo, breakfast is ready.” He finally finds another plate and more or less splits the well scrambled eggs evenly between the two plates. One for him, one for Bella. 

 

“Ooh, thanks Dad. Is there any juice?” She’s walking over to the fridge when she asks. Since she got home late last night, looking into the fridge was not high on her list of priorities.She’s just opened the door when Charlie speaks. 

 

“There’s apple juice in there but I bought some orange juice yesterday. I forgot to put it in the fridge.” His voice is quieter at the end of his sentence and it makes Bella want to laugh. She doesn’t. Instead she smiles widely and just takes out the apple juice to pour herself a glass. Unlike his voice, hers is scratchy with sleep. She had woken up around the time when Charlie had started the coffee maker. With just Charlie cooking in the kitchen, she could  _ hear _ the machine from up stairs. However, she soon lost the sound amongst the white noise of the morning ambience. She stayed another 5 minutes in bed, thinking and thinking, about nothing in particular but just listening to everything. Her breathing, the feeling of the warm covers against her cool skin. She even held prolonged eye contact with Spoons (a staring contest of sorts), up until Charlie shook his bowl and he zoomed off. 

 

With lethargy deep in her muscles and bones, she halfheartedly struggles to take out the jug. She places it on the counter and then hunts around the cabinets and the jungle of wares until she finds a suitable glass. She fills it about halfway with apple juice and fills the rest with cold water from the sink filter. She admits the filter makes things way easier. Back in Phoenix, they don’t have one. Instead, they usually fill up big old water gallons. The really big three and five gallon ones. And a shit ton of water bottles in the fridge. And there always,  _ always _ always has to be ice in the freezer. Without it, absolute hell would be a very possible reality in the suffocating summertime heat. 

 

Still, she reaches into the freezer and pulls out two ice cubes. More out of habit than anything else, since the weather is delightful here. But the second she downs some iced juice, she feels slightly more refreshed. She leaves her half full glass back on the table and takes the proffered plate Charlie left near the sink. She takes her seat across from him in their small table. They eat in a comfortable silence until they both finish. Bella slightly more faster than him. And as she takes the dirty dishes to the sink, she tells him, “I’ll take care of the dishes.” 

 

He hums in appreciation. He goes upstairs to retrieve his gun and badge and returns quickly. He’s just in front of the door when he turns to her. “I’m off to work. You’ll be fine right?” 

 

This is a new situation after all. 

 

“Yes, Dad. I’ll be fine. I’ll probably watch tv or read some books or walk around or something.” She can take entertain herself for a while. She’s a big girl now. “I can go grocery shopping on Friday,” she finishes, never turning away from the sink and the soapy suds. 

 

He leaves with a  _ click _ on the door and a ‘ _ be safe _ ’, thrown over his shoulder. And Bella finds herself alone, with only Spoons for company. Seriously, where did that cat go? She whistles and decides against shaking his empty food bowl but otherwise ignores him when he fails to show up.  _ Maybe he’s gone outside... _

 

When the dishes are all clean, she heads upstairs, intent on cleaning up her room. She does her bed quickly and swepts her shoes into the closet in favor of wearing flip flops while she cleans. She proceeds to empty the rest of her suitcase. She’d gotten the main stuff out yesterday (clothes and toiletries) but the important things are still inside. She unzips the zipper on a small pocket to pull out her charging cables for her phone and Nintendo. Oh, and battery pack. Or is it phone bank? Battery bank? Either way, she remembers it’s still in her smaller rucksack. Once she finds it, she gathers up all of her cables and electronic-related supplies and shoves them in her first drawer for easy access. Someday she will clean and sort things out in there. Today is not that day, however.

 

She continues on for a while until, this time for  _ sure _ , her suitcase is empty. The only thing she doesn’t know what to do with are the three books on her bed. Her bookshelf is kinda full and is already precariously balancing more books than it probably should. So her solution for now is to neatly place them on her desk. That’s as good as it gets it seems. Maybe another small bookshelf would help. There’s plenty of space in her room, compared to the one back in Phoenix. 

 

She stands in the middle of the room, surveying her progress. Then she takes a few steps towards her bed and flops onto it. She rolls until she is on her back. Her eyes remain closed while her arms are sprawled out on the mattress. She stays this way until she thinks of something else to do. When she finally does, she picks up one of said precariously dangling books on her shelf and tucks it under her arm. She glances down at herself briefly and decides that her jogger and tee shirt pjs are  _ just _ fine. She goes downstairs and pulls out a blanket from the cupboard under the stairs. She deposits all this outside, making sure that the blanket is evenly spread out so as to avoid any uncomfortable bumps. Then she dives in house for a quick trip in search of snacks and a water bottle. 

 

Satisfied, she goes back outside to read in the comfortable weather of Washington. This is something she either has to time very carefully or she straight up can’t do in Phoenix.  _ Damn heat _ , she thinks with a scowl. She really can't do this over there. And she sure as hell isn’t going to get up at the butt crack of dawn to walk around her neighborhood, so the evening hours just barely suffice. 

 

Though it’s this very same weather difference that gets to her the next day. She feels sick as a dog but that’s about it. She’s sniffling and has a terrible headache and mopes about the house, lamenting the fact that she  _ also _ forgot to put the orange juice in the fridge the day before. She feels like crap basically. Or dead, that’s gotta be the same right? Thankfully she feels better two days later, on Wednesday. 

 

And thus, most of the week goes by in a similar fashion. Charlie’s gone by the time she wakes up, which is not surprising since she’s not much of a morning person. But she always has dinner with him in the evenings, granted that there’s no pressing police work to be done. She reads outside or watches tv in her room. She even walks around the edge of the forest in an attempt to reacquaint herself with the majestic beauty that is there. Spoons accompanies her whenever he senses that she could  _ possibly _ be doing something  _ exciting _ . He leaves after she settles into whatever she does, except for the walks. He stays for those. 

 

By Friday, she is ready to drag Angela into grocery shopping with her. She’d already given her best friend a heads up about her plans. So on that Friday morning, she wakes up at a slightly more reasonable hour and changes into something equally as presentable; no need to dress like a bum. The citizens of Forks will witness that in due time. Angela calls her at some point to give her estimated time of arrival. 

 

She arrives some 10 minutes later in her little white car. Seeing that Bella is sitting outside, waiting for her, she merely honks twice and waits for her companion to enter the car. 

 

Bella stands from her spot and saunters over to her side of the car. She tries the door but finds it locked. Her lips move downwards and she jiggles the handle a couple of times (in rapid succession, the way an impatient child might) to get Angela’s attention. She hears the flick of the locks disengaging in the car and finally sits down inside. 

 

She leans her head on the headrest and turns to Angela with a pout, “That was rude.” She was referencing to the car horn, she was already outside after all. Actually she was talking about the car lock too, that was just cruel. Although, if she had a vehicle, she too would lock the doors and play around with people. 

 

“Well, it’s not like you’re particularly polite either.”

 

There comes an exaggerated loud gasp from Angela’s right and she briefly wonders how Bella didn’t choke on the air. She’s already out of the gravel driveway and making her way back onto the road. 

 

“Angela!” Bella practically gasps the name out and she’s quick to retort, “I’m nothing, if not polite!”

 

“Bella, that’s bull and you know it.” This is why they’re best friends. 

 

“Only around you.” They both laugh Bella’s failure to make it sound suggestive. It is still considered morning at that hour, so Angela cuts her friend some slack. 

 

“Seatbelt.” 

 

“What?”

 

“Your seatbelt, you forgot it.”

 

“Oh shit, right.” She scrambles to put on the potentially life saving strip of fabric. “It’s ‘cause you’re  _ so _ distracting Ang.” Her best friend snorts at this, but otherwise reminds silent and keeps a careful eye on the road. 

 

“Good morning, by the way.” 

 

“Good morning,” Angela replies cheerfully but is quick to mutter under her breath, “better late than never.”

 

“Hey! I heard that.”

 

“Good.  _ Nosy _ .” 

 

The rest of their trip to the nearest grocery store is silent, punctured only by the constant switching of the radio channels, courtesy of one Bella Swan. She settles on one promising indie channel, but switches whenever a good song ends or there’s a lull in the music thanks to advertisements.

 

Thankfully, they reach the grocery store  _ before _ the current song ends, which prevents Bella from switching the channels again. Angela sighs in quiet relief. It’d be her turn when they finished up and returned to her house. Still, she slowly follows Bella, who’s already bounded over to the shopping carts and is waiting for Angela to catch up. 

 

“Slow poke…”

 

Angela ignores her and proceeds to ask, “Do you have a list?” Bella derives from their imaginary path to locate a shopping cart. They are walking through the store’s now open doors, feeling the slight breeze from the air conditioner ruffle their hair. When she returns she answers the question. 

 

“Uh.. kinda?”

 

“Kinda?” There’s a small bit of incredulity in her voice. Just a tiny bit. 

 

“Well, I was making the list right? But I had the tv on, and there was this really cool documentary! Did you know certain species of catfish can grow as big as grizzly bears?!” 

 

She sounds enthusiastic about her new ‘fact of the day’ and Angela can’t seem to scold her for it. Even less when Bella pulls out the half finished list from her pocket. She turns it over curiously in her hands, and pulls a small face at the fact that her best friend’s handwriting is as shitty as ever. Still, she’s somewhat and  _ somehow _ versed in reading the chicken scratch that’s scrawled down the page, even though she hasn’t seen it for a while. One cannot simply erase that abomination from memory, she chuckles mentally. 

 

“Okay, let’s go. We’ll just go through the aisles.”

 

And so, partners in crime make their way inside to conquer the supermarket list. 

 

Indeed, they make their way through most of the aisles until Bella remembers that she had an intriguing thought earlier. Seeing that it is (fancy) Friday, she wanted to try her hand at some new recipe. She was stuck between some really good looking Italian recipes. She had even asked Spoons for his mighty and oh so very important opinion. He just meowed and put his paw reverently on the screen when she showed him pictures. He even did his cute head tilt to show that he was utterly serious. She finally settles on shrimp scampi pasta and pats Angela’s shoulder to get her attention as she scrolls down the list of ingredients on her phone. 

 

Angela bravely volunteers to return to the fresh produce to go find the vegetables again (cloves of garlic, lemons, parsley) seeing as she knows this store way better than first timer Bella. She takes the cart with her. “I’ll wait for you by the registers. The lines are starting to get long so just come find me.”

 

“Okie doke,” Bella had replied, wondering where the pasta could be located, and if they had passed the aisle already. There’s some pasta at home, but seeing as it was running low, she figures she could might as well pick some more up. And she has to find the shrimp. That’s easy enough, since it should be in the freezers, so she leaves it for last. Only in some crazy alternate world would the shrimp not be in the freezers. 

 

Oh, yeah. The deli exists too, where the shrimp aren’t in the freezers but on ice. Where she could also possibly get some shrimp, but no. She finds the pasta easily and moves towards the colder aisles. 

 

“Shrimp, shrimp, shrimp,” she talks to herself, pondering as to where it could possibly be. She’s scouring the condensed doors and comes close to approaching a dark honey brunette and her cart. “Where is it?” 

 

Very surprisingly, she gets a response. “The shrimp is on the other side, dear, right over there,” the woman points to the other aisle across from them. Wow, she even gets explicit directions, her favorite kind. “Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around.” 

 

Bella finally looks up to thank her and answer her question when she looks into striking hazel eyes, amber almost.  _ Whoa... _ She blinks and quickly takes in the rest of the warm face in front of her before responding. “No, yes. Kinda. I moved here recently, I’ve just never been to this store specifically. Thank you for the shrimp, er.. directions. Oh, the shrimp! I have to go, thank you again.” 

 

“Good luck with your recipe.”

 

“Thanks, thanks, I will.” Bella replies even though the woman hadn’t told her to do anything. If she had told her to enjoy it, that would’ve been the appropriate response but instead she said that. Oh jeez, this is like the time when she said  _ you’re welcome _ to a greeter at Kohl’s who first said welcome. 

 

The girl leaves swiftly (to the far end of the other aisle) and Esme Cullen is both amused and bemused. That was an interesting meeting, she thinks with a warm smile. She thinks of what her children would think of this strange but oddly charming child as she makes her way through the other aisles. She already picked up Emmett’s ice cream. 

 

_ Moved here recently... _

 

Could this be Bella? Isabella (presumably)Swan? 

 

_ Oh god, oh god... _ She can feel her face burning in embarrassment due to her rambling. Normally she doesn’t like when random people talk to her, all they receive are short answers if she doesn’t like them. But this lady just seemed so nice and inviting, somehow? Honestly she’s sort of reminded of her mother, who can chat up most people. She opens the freezer door where most of the shrimp are located as she wonders if she’ll run into her again. Obviously, she comes here often enough to recognize that Bella is a newcomer. Therefore, probably. 

 

She searches the shelves of shrimp, reading carefully. The recipe had suggested using deveined and something something else shrimp. Was that something a specific size of shrimp? She can’t remember from that initial skim and ends up picking the most promising bag of the seafood. 

 

With pasta and shrimp in hand, she heads off towards where she thinks the registers are located in a somewhat fast paced stride. 

 

She spots Angela easily enough (it helps that Angela had spotted her and waved) and assists in loads the groceries onto the conveyor belt when it’s their turn to do so. She pays with money that was from the grocery jar. And then they go through the trouble of having to load everything back into their cart. Without breaking the fragile things preferably. They roll away, go outside, and search for Angela’s car. 

 

Well, Bella does anyways since she forgot to check which lane they had parked in. Seeing that Angela kinda looks like she knows what she’s doing, she blindly follows after her. 

 

“I think we managed to get everything,” Angela starts off once they turn on the car. Bella just nods, quite a few times, slowly. She’s thinking of how they have to wait for the a.c. to stop blowing out Satan’s currents from hell back at home. And the seatbelts are too fucking hot to even consider touching for an extended period of time. She smiles slightly at her simple thoughts of comparison. And like a car, her mind also switches gear. Quickly. 

 

Or is a bike actually? That switches gears?

 

Either way, she says to Angela, “Let’s go get Starbucks.”

 

“Only if you’re paying.”

 

“Of course I’m paying, who do you think I am?”

 

“Bella Swan, silver-tongued freeloader.”

 

“Hey!” She yells in mild protest. She thinks about potentially making an attempt at a dirty joke with that tongue comment but doesn’t think it’ll work as effectively as other, well known jokes. She gets an unexpected slap on her arm. She turns her head slowly and  _ blinks _ , for dramatic effect, before asking, “What was that for?”

 

“You’ve got this look on your face. Like right before you say something dirty…”

 

“You didn’t even look this way!” It’s true, Angela was carefully keeping her eye on the road. Her friend was such a good driver. 

 

“I didn’t have to.”

 

Bella pouts at the comment though it’s probably true. They make their way to Starbucks and then to Bella’s house, singing songs that they know on the radio at the top of their lungs. They are both laughing by the end of it due to purposeful attempts at singing awfully whenever they don’t know a song. They try to outdo the other with awful renditions. This is why their friendship works. 

 

They unload the groceries, making a competition of sorts. It’s one where they see who can carry the most weight in groceries. Surprisingly, or not surprisingly, it’s Bella who wins (by default since Angela gave up early on). 

 

Once the groceries are all put away in the proper locations, Angela flops onto the couch in the living room. Bella follows short after, momentarily jolting her friend with her weight. They turn on the tv and they talk mindlessly for a few hours. Sometimes about the television characters, other times about stuff that they still need to catch up on. The desire to share what the other has missed is almost tangible in the air. And other times, they say nothing at all simply enjoying the silence and each other’s company. 

 

Until Angela leaves. She gets a call from her mother about coming home soon. “Duty calls,” she says and starts her car once she is inside it. She leaves with a wave and Bella is left alone in the house with only an incredibly vague notion of how much time has passed. It’s mildly dark outside, but that’s to be expected since there isn’t as much sun here as in Arizona. 

 

Sure, it’s nice outside. But she could read for hours inside on natural sunlight alone. That’s how sunny good old Arizona is. Still, she’d take reduced hours of sunlight over the hot as Satan’s breath temperatures anytime. Everytime. 

 

It’s still early enough, and Angela’s mother’s call reminded Bella that she was starting to get kinda hungry. So she starts cooking her fancy meal. She’s used to making big portions so she wonders if maybe her hand slipped too much for this recipe when she’s finished cooking. There is enough food for plenty of leftovers for both herself and Charlie. He happens to arrive just as she’s serving her own plate so she prepares one for him too, and they enjoy a quiet dinner together. He goes to bed soon after, seeing as it was a long day at work. 

 

Bella even slips a shrimp or two into Spoons’ bowl when she’s sorting out the leftovers into containers. She finishes up and the aforementioned treat is gone when she glances back down. She figures she could catch a late night show that she enjoys, like South Park, and makes a specific sound with her tongue. 

 

Thrice. 

 

Spoons announces his arrival by jumping onto the armrest and walking down the backrest of the couch to where she is. Though it would be remarkably easy for him to blend into the dark surroundings, Bella can see the cat clearly enough. He saunters into her open arms and soon enough, due to her relaxing ministrations, Bella can hear his soft purrs amongst the potty language emitted from the television. 

 

The next day, and after, she continues on in her recently established routine. And one particular morning, finds herself wanting to go to the library. She realizes that she hasn’t gone to the library yet. She will need to acquire a library card to check out books, but that seems simple enough. In theory. In all honesty she still has some books in her shelf that she hasn’t read yet, but she is not quite in the mood for Jack London or Kurt Vonnegut. 

 

She wants to read something science-y now. She finds an empty backpack in the supply closet to fill with books and decides to walk the entire way. She looked it up earlier and finds that the smaller library in her district is only about a mile and a half from her house, or so. There was a decimal point on Google Maps and she dismissed it. She grabs two water bottles and mentally does some quick math. It should only take her about 30 minutes if she walks at her normal leisurely pace. 

 

Taking advantage of her empty backpack, she thinks she could jog or at least super speed walk some bits. She writes a note to Charlie in case she takes  _ way _ too long at the library. That is very likely. With her blue hoodie and backpack, she lightly jogs out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is addressing a common question, why the fuck do they eat food? Well, I really did not like the whole ‘sparkly marble statue vampires’ that SM used in her series. Just.. mm.. No. So i based it off other vampire series that I’ve read and also took some artistic licenses with it. I’ve got notes and everything, so I am excited. I will be gone for about 2 weeks. I have some more I wanted to say but it’s really late right now so a longer explanation is available on this chapter’s author’s note on ffn. 
> 
> jennserr - Hopefully the above answers your question. I would like to incorporate more supernatural aspects than what I have planned but we’ll see how that goes. But yes, the Cullens are vampires. Btw, great profile pic...
> 
> elbereth1 - Thank you! I really wanted to set this apart from other, oh look, Bella moves to Forks and meets whoever, typical scenes. I am glad you enjoyed reading it. I enjoyed writing it. Also, wise words! I also have random scenes in mind when I day dream or space out. My only problem is that Bella and Rose haven’t met yet! Still, I really think next chapter is the one. And I do have lots planned for this


	4. Tombs and Tomes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella finally meets Rosalie. We did it, people

Library - (n.)  a building or room containing collections of books, films, and recorded music for people to read, borrow, or refer to. Also where people meet other people apparently

 

000

 

Seven days in a week. There are only seven days in a week, and Emmett thinks it is Sunday, the (technically) first day of the week. He always finds it strange that the week began on what he perceives to be a lazy day. Saturdays and Sundays are for doing whatever needs to be done. The weekdays are for school.

 

He looked it up once and discovered that it’s just one of those, weird things that only certain countries participate in. Like the metric system versus the standard system; the rest of the world versus the U.S., Burma, Liberia. In this case, only the U.S, Canada and Japan consider Sunday as the first day of the week. 

 

Still, it’s something interesting to think about.

 

And that is pretty much it. That has been it for the past few decades. The days go on, all after the other, identical almost, except for the obvious things. Out of all of his siblings, he quite enjoys attending school. There are certain limitations (of course, of course) but he legitimately enjoys the atmosphere of most high schools. 

 

But more than anything, it’s the learning that he enjoys. Of course, of course, the material gets boring after some time, but that’s why pursuing another degree and field of interest is all about. But that is a story for another time. 

 

Right now, he’s focusing his attention between a pixie fairy that is fluttering about, and the sad, moody, broody, musician. He watches his mate on the bed as his lips twitch and quirk at the last of his mental comments. He does this a lot for Edward. That is, narrating certain things in his head, as though he’s shooting some sort of narrative (their lives) and there’s an active audience (there is). Emmett, with his scattered and ever curious thoughts and feelings, somehow manages to ground Edward and make him focus on him and him only to tune out the rest of the world. 

 

So he keeps up a running commentary on everything pretty much. And right now he’s wondering about his original point of thought - the library. Yes, he got off track but now he’s back to wondering. If it is indeed Sunday (it is), then the library closes early today. Then-

 

“-that means that Alice should hurry the hell up.”

 

“Patience is everything, dear brother.”

 

Oh shoot, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Edward’s quiet snickering makes him turn to observe him. Emmett is sitting cross legged on the bed, near the edge. The red-haired telepath is just laying on the bed, legs bent over the edge, one hand behind his head while the other is playing around with the pillows. He’s facing the ceiling, occasionally opening his eyes, but mostly he’s content to view the world through Emmett’s eyes. 

 

Earlier, Alice had come bursting through - 

 

(“ _ Alice! _ What if we had been doing something?” is Edward’s slightly hysterical voice. Drama queen that he is. Emmett is the  _ something _ in this hypothetical scenario, he thought smugly as his mate is sitting upright now. They had been laying on top of Emmett’s bed, side by side, talking. Or rather, Edward was talking and responding to his thoughts. 

 

“You weren’t.”

 

“But what if?”

 

“I would’ve seen it.” 

 

A scowl. Edward knows that what he is thinking is not what is going through Alice’s mind. She would’ve based her observation on her decision to come bursting in, rather than their decisions for certain stuff. 

 

“Besides,” Alice continues, unperturbed in the slightest, “this is important and I need to borrow Emmett.” She turns towards Emmett, “Come help me pick an outfit. We’re going to the library!” And that had been that.)

 

\- demanding that they make a day trip of the library. Emmett wouldn’t turn down a trip to the library. He knows what people think of him - a loud bear of a muscle jock. And while that is true, to some extent, he also enjoys quiet time, though that is only partly due to Edward’s influence. 

 

Either way, they are in Alice’s room after she dragged Emmett off the bed; that was no easy task for any mortal, therefore is must’ve been of  _ utmost _ importance. Alice is still somewhere inside her walk in closet, not lost but Emmett imagine that she must be, what, with all the clothes and everything. Most of the rooms have walk in closets but Alice’s is extra big. 

 

It’s Edward’s voice that breaks the silence, “Can’t you go with Rosalie?” He almost sounds whiny, but not quite, just on the verge of it. It makes Emmett smile amusedly. 

 

“Nope!” Alice’s own sugar sweet saccharine voice says much too happily. She sounds louder as she exits her closet. “Rose is going on Thursday.” 

 

She sounds normal now and Edward sits up, looking at her attentively, studying her. He still observes her as she makes Emmett choose between different outfits. Thursday. Rose. Why is this important? Edward works to keep his face neutral and not frown as he contemplates what that sliver of  _ not-distracted _ thought means. Apparently he fails because his mate pecks his cheek. Though cheek is debatable as it is more below the eye and right on the cheekbone. 

 

Still, he returns the favor quickly on Emmett’s unsuspecting cheek and Alice lightly yells at him to stop distracting her helper. Finally, finally, she narrows down her choices before she stills. “No!” At Emmett’s alarmed face, she continues, “It’s going to rain! Very  _ lightly _ but still. I have to choose something else.”

 

Emmett sighs dramatically and flops backwards onto the bed. And here he was, all excited for a baseball game, but  _ no _ . 

 

000

Finally. 

 

Thank the lord, and whatever other deity there is. And there’s lot. Alice Cullen is done. She emerges from her closet in a faintly floral and flowy sundress. Thrown over her arm is a cardigan and she dips back in quickly to produce an umbrella. 

 

Emmett cannot believe how long that took. Actually he can because giant unnecessarily filled closet but still. He decides to voice his concerns. “Okay. Done, finished.  _ Finito _ . What am I going to wear and please, please, don’t take so long…” It’s rare that Alice chooses to dress them up outside of impromptu modeling sessions. He acquiesces this time because he feels that it’ll be faster this way. He hopes it’ll be faster than Alice’s turn.  

 

“Brother dear, such little faith in me. I already know what you’re going to wear, silly.” She disappears briefly and reappears holding some clothes for Emmett to wear. “Here. Hurry up!” 

 

She vanishes around the doorframe. He turns to match Edward’s gaze on him. Could this have been why he muttered  _ hmm _ ’s and  _ ahh _ ’s and  _ no _ ’s? Before either of them could speak, Alice’s head popps around the door frame. 

 

“No funny business, we’ve gotta go, go,  _ go _ .” She only slightly feels bad for interrupting their time together but this is of the utmost importance. The life changing kind. She sees Edward nod curiously at her thoughts and again, she recedes from view. 

 

She practically glides down the stairs, and right into the living room. She finds Esme reclined against the armrest of the couch, reading. Alice hugs her around the shoulder and plants a kiss on her cheek, while also scanning the pictures on the book. Unsurprisingly, it is an architectural book. 

 

“Ideas for your client?” If Esme hadn’t wanted a challenge with their modern behemoth of a house, Alice always thought that she would’ve gone with either a Victorian or Tudor style for their home.

 

“Yes. Going somewhere, dear?”

 

“Mhm. Just to the library. I’m dragging Emmett along.”

 

“Ah. Well, I doubt you’ll have to try very hard.” She flips a page. She leans her head back slightly into Alice, “Call if anything.” The pause is only barely noticeable. Sometimes, just sometimes, she forgets that her teenagers are more than independent. That they’ve got their own lives. Still, she always offers her assistance, that’s just her motherly personality it seems. 

 

“Mhm!” Alice nods and departs with another kiss to the cheek just as Emmett is coming down the stairs. She’s glad. Esme’s the only mother she’s ever known, since waking up in this new world, new life. She can’t remember any of it; there’s just a black hole amongst the constellations of connections in her brain for that time, and though it frustrates her, she doesn’t dwell on it. Instead she focuses on how happy she is here, surrounded by caring and occasionally annoying vampire siblings and wonderful parents. 

 

“Okay, good, finally, let’s go!” And they walk into the garage to take the car. Rosalie’s there, working on her latest project. She merely gives them a small wave as she adjusts the volume on her speakers, one hand clutching a tool, the other on the volume knob. Alice doesn’t recognize it as her usuals so she suspects it might be a playlist Edward has made for her. 

 

They get into one of their many cars, none of which are very inconspicuous, and set off to the library. 

 

Until, Emmett remembers to get their bookback and Alice has to park in front of their house. 

 

Now,  _ all set _ , they set off to the library in their less than conspicuous car. 

 

000

 

As she predicted, Bella arrived at the library in about half an hour. Not bad, she mentally congratulates herself. 

 

Despite this library being the smaller of the two, she can see that it is two stories tall. And many more stories are inside. It almost reminds her of the one back home. She’s excited to see the interior and there’s a noticeable bounce in her step as she approaches the building. 

 

Being inside a new and unfamiliar library is an odd feeling. She desperately wants to go right to a familiar section and look through the books. However everything seems alien to her. She should get a map of some sort, one that has the Dewey Decimal system on it. Even from her standpoint near the entrance, she can see that there are numbers on the aisles. That makes it slightly easier. 

 

Damn, she probably looks like a tourist just standing here. Or even a newcomer. She’d rather not get noticed, and would much rather prefer to blend in. 

 

Thankfully, there’s the reception desk a few meters in front of her. Somewhere to the left of that are the checkout scanners. At least she knows where the most important stuff are. 

 

After a few really long seconds, she makes the hard decision to walk to the front counter and ask for assistance. She needs a library card and it makes more sense to get it out of the way right now than when she has books. 

 

The lady there is helpful and she tells her that it’ll just take a while for her to get her card. Ten to fifteen minutes tops so that’s amazing. Bella is also grateful that it’s a woman helping her. Men are fine, she just gets really flustered. Maybe it’s due to her lack of exposure, she thinks curiously. She did always have a disproportionate amount of girls in her honors classes as compared to boys. It’s not that she’s complaining about the amount of girls. 

 

Oh, no. Not at all. Quite the opposite, she thinks with a small upturn of the lips. 

 

She ends up waiting 20 minutes just in case the card wasn’t ready yet by looking at the rather large selection of movies and tv series and other suchs DVDs. She sees a few movie titles she might want to check out and even a couple seasons of stuff that catches her roaming eyes. She straightens up from her position of tilting her head to view at the titles once the twenty minutes are up. 

 

She picks up her card and is slightly marveled by it. There’s nothing special about it, absolutely nothing at all. But she loves its minimalist design. It’s a baby blue and white card with the name of the library district. Barcode and phone number in the back, just like all other cards. It even came with one of those tiny keychain cards, which she likes very much. 

 

She tucks it into her hoodie pocket and grabs a map from somewhere. That seems like a good place to start. The lower floor mostly consists of books meant for a younger demographic. Children's books are on one side and next to bigger, thicker fiction books on the left wing of the downstairs. Almost as though the books move up and around in the order of age. She bets that she could probably find the Percy Jackson series here. She loves the series, but she guesses that the non fiction section that she is after is upstairs. 

 

There’s some computers to look for the availability of certain books or place them on hold. But she’s not looking for a particular title. 

 

She walks up the stairs, admiring the interior. Well, as much as she can while she looks down at the steps. She needs to look at steps and doesn’t quite grasp how people can glide and slide up and down steps without looking at them. Thus, her steps are punctuated by a slight pause as she gets from one step to another. 

 

She makes it upstairs and at least the aisles also offer the subject instead of just a decimal number. There’s more computers here, the likes of which seem to make up a small computer lab. And there’s some couches here and there. And tables too! Wow, this a fucking rad library. 

 

She walks between some tables and contemplates which one she might sit at. She doesn’t dare leave her backpack at one but figures she could probably just leave a stack of books on one if she finds any promising books. She can already spot a table that has a few books scattered on in but no occupants. She mentally settles on one a few tables away before more attention to the subjects up here. 

 

It’s quiet. 

 

The atmosphere is still, almost in a timeless manner, and Bella finds that she enjoys it. If it weren’t for her phone and watch (plus the clocks on the wall), she believes that she could very well lose track of time. There’s clouds out, passing by slowly, a stark white fluffy contrast to the light color of the sky. 

 

She paces through the aisles, tilting her head and running a finger across the spines of books to properly read the titles. On particularly interesting sections, she sits with crossed legs on the carpeted floor to glimpse through the tomes. No one bothers her so she doesn’t have to awkward shuffle away from someone’s path. 

 

She’s got a movie on Machu Picchu on top of her mythology and slightly morbid science book. She goes to set them on her table. She picks out a book on the brain that even she’s not entirely sure if she’ll read and finds another documentary. She sets them on her table. 

 

The tables are mostly on the right side from the stairs, where the manga and teen fiction sections are located. The non-fiction section encompasses most of the left wing. Right in front of the stairs is a water fountain that Bella could refill her water bottles. She only just glanced at it when she reached the second floor. 

 

Therefore, she most likely and probably did not notice the slight drips and drops the leaky water fountain was making on the floor. 

 

Oh, she might’ve heard it, yes. But being too busy with the books, the sound faded into the silent and quietness of the library. 

 

She’s back on her way to eagerly devour book titles and synopses when her right foot just fucking  _ skids _ forward as she takes that step. Her left hand reaches out first, grabbing nothing but air. Her right hand shoots out only a second after and manages to grip the rounded metallic corner of the treacherous water fountain. 

 

That stops her from falling flat on the floor, but it doesn’t stop her body from obeying gravity and its laws and slowly sinking to the floor. 

 

The hand gripped firmly around her elbow does. That is, stop her from falling and sliding further. The hand doesn’t even tighten its grip when she starts to stand and pushes against it to straighten up properly. 

 

She turns around to see who is attached to that finely manicured hand and is only slightly dumbfounded to see that her savior is a girl several inches shorter than Bella. Not the bear of a guy right next to her, who not only is taller than Bella, but also more muscular. It makes her think back to the comment Angela had made about having handguns. 

 

Whoa. She doesn’t even look like she strained herself, helping Bella up. The girl lets go of her elbow and steps back, closer to the boy’s side. Her eyes were wide at having watched Bella fall but now it is only her smile that is blindingly wide, charmingly so.  

 

“Hi! I’m Alice, come sit with me and my brother!” 

 

Neither party notices the teeny tiny dent on the fountain sink. 

 

000

 

When Alice woke up that particular Sunday morning, she saw a vision only minutes later. It was the rare and random kind. The kind where her gift says to her,  _ hey, I still exist _ , and randomly,  _ annoyingly _ (she can’t control these, few as they are) results in a vision, like an alarm someone forgot they had set. 

 

It was a quick one of her and Emmett simply sitting at a table with another girl. It was swift but she recognized both the room and the girl. That was the library and that girl was the one from the airport.  _ Bella _ . 

 

Usually these visions are the result of someone else’s decisions and it is up to Alice to run through possible scenarios and actions in her head to trigger the event and make it come to life. Considering the mild issue she had last time, she is wondering about this vision and how easily it came to her. Humans don’t have the advantage of personally willing the most likely and beneficious scenarios to occur (she does) and they just make a decision. In this case, it is rather simple. It  _ seems _ easy. All she has to do is go to the library with Emmett accompanying her. 

 

Which led them to this point. Inviting Bella to come sit with them. This exact meeting was not one she had foreseen. Despite the odd circumstances, this was instantly on her list of delightful surprises. 

 

She doesn’t get very many of those. 

 

She was leading Emmett back to their table when the girl in front of them had slipped. What else to do than help her up and present themselves to a possible (read: definite) schoolmate?

 

“Ah. Sure,” Bella responds, looking mildly surprised, though her tone indicates a touch of uncertainty. She wrinkles her nose slightly at the sudden scents that are very noticeable when the entire space smells like old and used books. She finds that she actually likes it and briefly wonders what kind of perfume or cologne or whatever they use. “Oh! Thank you. For helping me up and whatnot.”

 

“It’s no problem!” Time to take control of the situation. “This is my brother Emmett,” she gestures to him and he cheerfully waves a greeting at the girl. “So, are you new here? We haven’t seen you around before.”

 

Alice observes the other girl carefully, being sure to commit her features to memory. Expressive dark brown eyes with hair to match. Except that there’s mahogany streaks faintly shining through, even under the fluorescent lighting. It’s a good thing Alice has excellent vision then. 

 

Alice heads over to their table. She and Emmett stand as Bella collects her small pile of tomes and DVDs to move over to their table. They sit down when she does. It’s a decent sized square table that leaves them enough room to comfortable spread out slightly. Alice is across from Bella and all three of them mutually decide that the extra space is for their books. 

 

“Oh, yes. I decided to move with my dad, so here I am.” 

 

“That sounds nice. I take it you’re going to Forks High? There’s only so many school to pick from,” Alice drawls playfully. Starting off with the easy and simple questions is the best route to take for now. 

 

“Yeah. I take it both of you are students there?” Bella mirrors the smaller girl’s words, looking between the siblings who she now knows are Alice and Emmett. They don’t look to be related. Cousins maybe. He’s overly tall, and she’s overly short. Maybe he stole all the tall genes.  They both have dark hair, and  _ maybe _ the same mischievous features but that seems to be it. Well, they could be adopted so there goes most of Bella’s curiosity. Not all of it though. They weren’t here last summer, though that could also be due to the fact that she left early that year. 

 

This time it’s Emmett that responds, not as loudly as she was expecting, “Oh yeah, us and our siblings. We all go there. You could say we’re kind of new. We moved here about a year ago.”

 

“Oh, wow.” Bella’s eyebrows crinkle slightly as she contemplates this new information. She doesn’t know what to ask about first. These guys seem friendly enough and it couldn’t hurt to make some friends. She’s only got Angela and Jacob. Sure, she somewhat knows the other teenagers she will soon attend school with (mostly from Angela’s anecdotes), but that’s a small town thing. Everybody knows everybody, or at least knows  _ of  _ them. Acquaintances don’t quite count in this headcount. 

 

“Wait, wait, wait. So where did you guys move from? How many of you are there?” 

 

“Canada. Before that, Alaska. Though only briefly,” Emmett responds.  _ Whaaaat _ .

 

“Well, there’s our parents, Esme and Carlisle. Then there’s Edward, who was adopted first. Rosalie and Jasper are Esme’s niece and nephew, they’re twins. And then there’s us, distant relatives of Carlisle’s or something.” She waves a hand flippantly, not bothering to go beyond that in detail. That’s already enough details. Not quite lies, but not quite the entire truth either. “And some of us are dating. It’s not like we grew up with each other but I know that it’s weird to some people..”

 

It’s almost phrased as a question and it takes Bella a second to see that Alice is looking to where she stands. “Oh, well, that’s cool,” she shrugs. “At least you didn’t have to look very far. Love is love.”

 

“-is love,” Emmett finishes and reaches out to fist bump her. She narrows her eyes at him slightly in thoughtful contemplation when he says this. She looks at his hand before placing her palm over it. Then she makes a fist but wait for him to reciprocate her earlier action. She beams when he does so. She likes this one. 

 

Then her brain interrupts to remind her of his earlier statement. “ _ Wait _ , so Canada? Alaska?”

 

…

 

Books are ignored. Which Bella would ordinarily think is just  _ tragic _ . However, she learns a lot about these amiable teens. She likes them. She actually looks forward to seeing them around school. They don’t exchange numbers, she forgets too but assumes she’ll see them around; it’s a small town after all. 

 

Their ongoing conversation, ranges from all sorts of topics. From Bella’s mythology and biology books to Emmett’s physics and astronomy books. They are still talking when Bella receives a phone call. 

 

Bella squirms and initially checks her front pockets out of habit. She pulls her phone out of her back pocket triumphantly, muttering something about her ass vibrating. Her words make both siblings laugh, though they are quick to tone down the volume. They are in a library after all. 

 

It turns out the library is due to close in about half an hour and Charlie had called to see if Bella wants him to pick her up. He saw the note she had left, thankfully. She does. 

 

She picks up her stuff and reaches out to give them firm handshakes. She once read a tumblr post about handshakes at the end of each adventure, and since then, that’s kind of been her thing. She tells them that she will see them around, it is a small town after all. And Emmett replies that they are here often enough, which is true. 

 

She leaves and walks downstairs to go check out her things. Once they are properly in her backpack, she waits outside. The weather is lovely. The sly wind brushes against her cheeks and she’s glad she brought her hoodie for the afternoon weather. 

 

000

 

It is Monday afternoon, after she’s watched the two movies that she rented, that Bella realizes that she never did end up getting more than two books. Which is utterly shocking. She goes to the library the next day and is not surprised at all when the pattern repeats. She is waved over by Emmett and Alice going up the stairs as she is about to approach the movies. 

 

She decides that she doesn’t mind. Not at all, actually. This is nice, really nice. So the tiny trio talk and talk the day away. From the most random topics and tangents to some serious stuff. To catching up and trying to recommend places for Bella to go. 

 

She still does not tell them that she’s been here every summer since she was a tiny pipsqueak because the topic does not quite come up again. And it’s really amusing to her. 

 

She likes her newfound friends. 

 

And Bella again does not get any additional movies or books. 

 

She thinks about it Wednesday night. 

 

(She’s already told Charlie about the friends she made. She mentions Alice and Emmett but only recognizes their parents’ names. 

 

“ _ Oh. _ Yeah, Dr.Cullen and his wife. Real nice folks. Doesn’t matter what anyone else says, they are  _ the _ nicest and most generous people. Dr.Cullen could have a job  _ anywhere _ and he chose rainy old Forks. Good for us, I say!”

 

She blinked, slightly stunned. Bella has questions of course, like who  _ wouldn’t _ like the Cullens? But that’s the most she’s heard her dad speak about this. That’s his version of a passionate rant so she nods and passes him what she made for dinner.)

 

And it looks like she’s going to the library again on Thursday. 

 

Like the previous times, she meets up with Alice and Emmett. Only this time, she walks up the stairs and goes to sit with them in what she is now calling their table. 

 

“Hey, Bella.” They chime simultaneously. Definitely related. 

 

“Hey, guys. Why so early today?” If Bella thought she could pick out some materials today by coming slightly earlier, she is dead wrong. She loves her books but the novelty of this makes her not care about not checking any out again. 

 

“Oh, our sister wanted to come today.” They conspiratorially move closer together and point out their sibling to Bella. Bella can’t tell much, the other girl is facing away from them. The only things that she can tell are that she seems to be blonde, and  _ maybe _ a little on the tall side. 

 

“Rosalie, right?” She remembers thinking that there’s two girls to the three boys. And since Alice is here, it’s obvious who the other sibling is. Honestly, she’s kinda surprised she didn’t forget any names. 

 

“Yeah, good job. Go make yourself known, use that dork charm!”

 

Bella looks a little nervous, Alice admits. But she should be fine. This is  _ exactly _ what she’s been waiting for all week, damnit. She can be patient but not all the time. She’s giddy almost, but hides it well. 

 

“Wait, wait. Here, if all else fails use this. Now go!” She thrusts a big book into Bella’s empty hands. It’s not even a thick book but the size of it is about her arm’s length. She shoves Bella a little before she can read the title or properly see what kind of book it is. 

 

If all else fails? What kind of comment is that. That makes Bella a little more nervous and that causes random stuff to sprout from her mouth. Like the following:

 

“Excuse me, Milo, do you mind if I sit here?” She comes around the table’s corner, carrying that book close to her chest.

 

“Milo?” The blonde girl turns to look at this intruder with the too bright smile. Whoa, who even has eyes like that? 

 

An eyebrow twitched and Bella followed it's delicate shape with her eyes before looking back into irises that she can only describe as fucking purple (though in the lighting, she can catch a lavender highlight), offering an explanation. Or rather, another question.

 

“Or would you prefer Venus?” She asks quietly, seriously almost, were it not for the seriously blinding smile that she's got on. When Rosalie continues to blink and sit in silence with a straight face, the smile drops just a bit and the girl in front of her stammers out an actual explanation this time.  

 

“You know what, ah, I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable. That was completely the opposite of what I was trying to do. Uh, Alice suggested that I make myself and my ‘dork charm’ known. So here's this?” She sits and slides the books over in an apology as she waits for the other girl to say something. Anything. She feels awful now and wants to escape the situation but she’s already here and made of a fool of herself. Might as well commit and follow through.

 

“Gosh you're pretty…” is murmured out and even Rosalie admits that she would’ve strained to hear it had she been human. If the decibel and the girl's quickly reddening face mean anything, it's probably that she wasn't meant to hear that and that it probably slipped out. And that she’s probably regretting coming over, even on Alice’s orders. 

 

They came home from the library that Sunday afternoon looking absolutely ecstatic. However, they were tight lipped as to what exactly happened that day. At least until everyone came home to eat dinner. Only then did they explain. And boy, did they elucidate the situation. 

 

Alice had sketched a rough portrait of Bella to demonstrate exactly who this was. Though rough was an understatement. And the situation was made more coherent. They relayed all the information that they already knew, that this Bella girl was staying to finish up her schooling and that the Chief was indeed her father. The decision to stay remained unchallenged. 

 

So Rosalie does something brave. Or stupid. She decides that being friendly couldn't hurt much. Alice and Emmett are already attached. Still, it makes her slightly wary, but she pushes that negative and awful feeling away as quickly as it comes. 

 

So she extends her arm and offers the girl her hand. “Rosalie Hale,” she says clearly. She’s a Cullen but she won’t ever let herself forget her past, no matter the awfulness associated to it.

 

The girl’s smile is back to its brighter-than-the-sun levels. She finds that she doesn't need sunglasses, like she previously thought. 

 

Bella takes the hand and shakes it firmly. “I'm Bella, Isabella swan, since we're being all formal.”

 

“ ‘All formal?’ Fine. Rosalie Lillian Hale.”

 

She smirks, matching the smaller one on Rosalie’s face. “Okay then, Rosalie Lillian Hale. Isabella Marie Swan. It's nice to meet you.”

 

“Likewise. Alice and Emmett have talked about you. Lots. Constantly. All the time.” She wants to make it sounds irritated and frustrated but she's  _ smiling _ . It's not even a big smile but it's there, lips and all. The effect is pretty much cancelled out but she finds that she doesn't mind when she hears Bella laugh at her comment. 

 

“All lies, I assure you.”

 

“Oh really? Even the good things?” Rosalie's teasing at this point. She took Rosalie’s potentially passive aggressive words and just rolled with it.  

 

“Well, I don't know about those.” Bella leans closer across the table, “You'll have to tell me about those.” 

 

000

 

A/N - FUcking finally! I’d like to thank not just the lord, but Jesus too!  I was supposed to go to bed already damit. I gotta wake up early but I was on a crazy good roll. Started writing a few days after coming back from Mexico so that was pretty damn great. I literally could not and did not want to put this off till tomorrow and my laptop’s almost dead so here it is, good night, read and review and all that. Y’all are amazing, hope you all enjoy this chapter, it was a long time coming. 

 

Jennserr - it is a breath of fresh air in this fandom, glad you think so. I just didn’t think it was very plausible that Bella literally had no friends before becoming involved with the supernatural. Glad their best friend relationship seems to be going smoothly


	5. I Think My Brain Short Circuited

Scintilla - (n) a tiny trace or spark of a specified quality or feeling

 

000

 

“There won’t be much, I’m afraid.” The Rosalie girl admits, feigning a thoughtful look. One of her hands is covering the cover of the book that she slid from Bella’s direction to the space in front of her. The other settles on her face, her knuckles against her cheek, head tilted. Eyes wide in curiosity and observation as she takes in the opposing girl. 

 

“Oh, really? You just said they talked on and  _ on _ about me, not that they were  _ complaining _ .” She leans back in her chair, away from Rosalie but her body language is still rather open and engaging. This newcomer is giving Rosalie space and she appreciates it but also wonders about it. Is this newcomer not usually so bold?

 

“Did I? My mistake.”

 

Damn, Bella can’t think of anything to say in retaliation. Her dork charm has worn off apparently. She’s surprised she managed to keep that little witty repartee going. Bella narrows her eyes at the blonde haired beauty, puzzled smile on her face. 

 

Wait. She thinks she has it. 

 

“You don’t look the type to make mistakes.” Got her there. And she really doesn’t. She looks as though as she could conquer the world, or at the very least, the room. Demanding all eyes on her by the simply the way she walks, ignoring everyone as she goes, not bothering to give them the time of day. 

 

And if Bella thought the two siblings at the table over smelled wonderful, then scent that clings to Rosalie Hale is something else entirely. Her scent is all around them in the air, floating about in the small space between them. It’s soft and entirely pleasing to Bella’s nose and she wants to breath it in deeply but restrains from doing so. 

 

Mostly, aside from a slight flare of her nose. 

 

No need to look more like a weirdo than she already is probably. 

 

“Do I?” Rosalie gave a sort of coy smile as she delivered the next line, “I’m only human after all.” 

 

“What a  _ coincidence _ , so am I. To err is human, right?” Is she laying on the sarcasm too thick? Bella worries slightly. 

 

Rosalie nods at the brunette. She thinks deeply about the sentences that were just exchanged while there is a lull in their conversation. If it can be called that. She believes that her family is safe; witty chit chats are hardly a hint as to their nature. Both parties remain quiet for a few moments, Rosalie still observing the other girl. Simply... _ looking _ . 

 

It’s just straightforward inquisitiveness and bemusement. Her siblings got attached rather quickly. Though she supposes that time is different for them. Still, it’s up to her now to judge how and why they deftly got attached.

 

Well done eyebrows and naturally long eyelashes are the first things that Rosalie sees on the other girl’s plain face besides her eyes. Skittish eyes that flit and dart about, lovely umber ones that won’t meet her own intimidating prussian blue. The dark chestnut strands of hair tucked behind an increasingly reddening ear that delicately holds back the rest of her side swept hair from cascading down and about. 

 

_ Hipster.  _

 

That’s the one word that instantly comes to mind as she assesses the rest of Bella’s outfit. A loose blue hoodie that seems to swallow up her gangly structure. Though she seems content to remain lost in the loose material, as evidenced by the constant shuffling of the sleeves. She’s playing, pushing, pulling on them to hide her arms up to her knuckles, gripping the edges between fingers in a loosely curled fist. A forgotten red beanie lays on the corner of the table, dangerously close to dropping to the floor.

 

Before she can appraise the rest, she makes the mistake of looking back up into Bella’s irises, who was sizing her up as well. Brown eyes blink in embarrassment and wonder before looking away.

 

The silence that was floating about and whispering in their ears is scared away by Bella’s soft and shy utterance of “ _ Hi” _ when she finally looks at Rosalie and manages to maintain prolonged eye contact this time. 

 

“Hello,” Rosalie replies equally as softly, with an amused smile. She’s not entirely sure how to continue the conversation now that the human has had a sudden bout of shyness. It’s not as though Alice has introduced them, which would’ve eased the awkwardness or opened up a line of questions. Alice all but shoved the girl towards her, she’s beginning to suspect. 

 

Bella shifts again, moving her arms into her lap. Her knuckles rap against the side of the wooden table in a random pattern. Rosalie decides to move as well, and her new position leaves her with her hands on the table and the cover of her book in full view. 

 

Predictably, this draws the other girl’s attention and the rapping stops for a pregnant pause. Rosalie narrows her eyes slightly to discern the various expressions the shifting of facial muscles manages to pull off in Bella’s face. 

 

“You like cars?” There’s a crinkle between the eyebrows, one’s imperceptibly higher than the other. There’s something about the somewhat monotone voice throws her off and she’s in the middle of mentally preparing to  _ throw _ a defensive comment that will absolutely leave this girl running for the hills when she continues speaking, “That’s so fucking  _ rad!” _

 

Rosalie is taken aback; she blinks.  _ Rad? _ Who even uses that anymore? Her entire family is older than the slang itself and she’s completely baffled. But apparently this was a necessary exchange of words. It opens the metaphorical floodgates and Bella asks question after question and  _ just one more, promise _ . 

 

And Rosalie lets her, she enjoys it actually. Of course she would, she’s rather proud of her mechanical skills. It is a different experience than when her family asks the relative and minor question about a part or other. Bella has absolutely no idea what words are coming out of her mouth, both Rosalie’s and her own that prod Rosalie to continue. 

 

At first she has no idea what to ask. 

 

“Wh.. What kind, no, no wait. Who taught you about cars, or did you teach yourself? Wait, no,  _ how  _ do you like cars? I mean, do you like, know the mechanics or just enjoy the aesthetic appeal?” And that voice, that voice that was oddly monotone just a moment before, came alive, with the pitch changing as much as the questions in her excitement. 

 

Rosale has to think about it for a moment. Her family did not own a car in the time of the Great Depression. And if they had, she wonders if her father would’ve taught her. “The internet,” she replies slowly, as though the words are foreign to her. 

 

In truth, Carlisle was where this interest came from. She was bitter that she wasn’t left to die that night and angry at his intentions in saving her. He had saved her because that was what he  _ did _ , he was a good person. It was only later that he hoped she would be a companion for Edward. That was a terrible attempt, even without him knowing about other details. It was Esme who helped guide her in her new life. Helped her accept it and made her want to be the best at it. 

 

It was 1930 when Carlisle bought his car. 1930 Pontiac. Unpredictably, it started having problems a few years later, shortly before WWII. He was over in the garage, and Esme had suggested she go help him, nudged her really. Predictably, he didn’t know what he was doing. 

 

“The good doctor can fix humans but can’t fix machines? Shocking.” She walked over to where he was, slowly, uncertain of what she was supposed to do. So she fell back to her humor and sharp words. 

 

He released a huge sigh, wiping grease on his overalls that he bought specifically for this purpose. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” He hummed in thought as he stared down at the internal workings of the machine. 

 

“Clearly.”

 

“Would you like to give it a go?” He offered her the tool in his hand, his voice gentle. She took pity on both him and the poor car. She grasped it, eyes already taking in every delicate detail of the parts that made the car move. When things malfunctioned at her house (usually due to her brothers), she was always the one to tinker with it. Before her father came home, of course. He never really knew that things were sometimes in a state of disarray.

 

It’s mostly trial and error but she eventually managed to get the engine running smoothly. Carlisle sighed relief this time. “Thank you. Live patients usually tell me what’s wrong with them. This is… not my area of expertise.” 

 

He offered a smile and his hand as thanks, and she studied it for a second before she took it. Maybe she wasn’t ready right then and there but she thinks she can forgive this man and his honest and honorable intentions. 

 

It was only years later, after WWII, that she bought an old car. The current models were very nice but not quite what she wanted. She purchased the most run down, old car that she could find. Kept it in the garage of their next place and gathered all of the parts to restore it before she even attempted anything. She even had to shoo Emmett out of the garage often times. 

 

It’s only now that she thinks about it that she wonders if that was a metaphor for something.

 

“Carlisle bought a crap car and I learned to fix it,” Rosalie elaborates. That ought to answer all the questions she was asked. It was close enough to the truth.

 

“Where’s it now?” Damn it. Of course, Bella would be interested. If someone restored a car, people would be  _ very _ much interested. And if the girl wondered why she called him by his first name, she didn’t show it. 

 

“Eventually broke down for good. I did my best.”

 

“Oh. That’s still amazing though... The only thing I can fix are papers and legos.” Rosalie thinks  _ fix _ is a synonym for  _ build _ . Bella is pouting slightly but the expression is gone before Rosalie can really focus on it. 

 

“Do you miss Canada much?” Time for a topic change.

 

“Not particularly. The only difference is that we crossed the border.” Canada was too much like Alaska for her to really separate the two in her mind. Endless green trees and blindingly white snow. Enormous reindeer, moose, caribou. 

 

“I miss California sometimes.” Bella volunteers. This is something Alice and Emmett didn’t mention. She was under the impression that the girl came from Arizona. Building rapport by mentioning similar experiences? It seems to work because Rosalie opens her mouth to ask for more. 

 

“What do you miss about it? How long did you live there?” She wants to ask  _ when _ did she live there but finds this to be a slightly better question. And damnit, after only a few minutes the girl’s verbose nature was starting to rub off on her. 

 

“Man, what don’t I miss about it? I only lived there for a few years when I was  _ this _ big so I don’t remember much. I was 4 when we moved there and 8 when my mom and I moved to Phoenix,  but the  _ beach, _ that’s the only thing I miss it. The weather here is pretty much the same. There’s a beach here. Have you seen it yet?”

 

Bella needs to go to the beach soon, she misses it. Misses the salty sea and the scent of it in the air. She even misses the annoying seagulls. She mentally adds it to her  _ visit soon _ list. 

 

She’s expressive. She’s movement personified, Rosalie realizes, when the girl gestures widely, referencing the height a small child would be. The ups and downs in the pitch of her voice vary in range to properly describe things. It’s almost as though she is retelling an exciting story. 

 

“Not yet, I’ve been busy with projects.” She finds that she doesn’t want to lie to Bella, but she also doesn’t want to give the incorrect impression that the Cullens are allowed on Quileute lands. Rosalie is, but she doesn’t go either way. Therefore it doesn’t  _ matter _ . “Do you like it here?”

 

“Mostly. I didn’t think I’d miss the sun, but I do. Only slightly, for reading purposes, of course. It’s too damn hot in Phoenix, so I like this climate better. I do miss my mom a bit. Charlie’s great though.”

 

Rosalie opens her mouth, intent on asking another question, when her ears hear muffled vibrations. She looks on as Bella shimmies around the chair to find her phone. She turns in her seat to answer the phone call, giving Rosalie a mouthed  _ sorry _ . 

 

“Hello? Hey dad. Yeah, I’m still here, what’s up?... Oh. I didn’t know they were coming today!  _ Already _ ? Alright, I’ll wait outside. Thanks, bye!”

 

She turns back to Rosalie and almost looks sheepish, offering a small smile. “So, um. I have to go, but I’ll see you later right? At school? It’d be nice to know a few people.”

 

“Yes, that would be nice. Can I.. walk you down?” 

 

“Yes, please.” Bella practically beams when she says it. She glances around at their table very briefly. Bella sighs and mutters under her breath, “ _ No books today. _ ”

 

It does not come as a surprise to her that Alice and Emmett are already downstairs. She spots a short receipt in Alice’s hand and a bag filled with who knows what exactly in Emmett’s hand. They don’t talk as they walk and wait outside with Bella. The siblings have to stifle laughter when they see Bella’s expression at Charlie’s cruiser. Nonetheless, she beams widely and waves, “See you guys on Tuesday!”

 

“Bye Bella!” They wave back. 

 

They wait until the car is out of sight before walking to Rosalie’s own BMW. Alice can only manage to wait until they are within the car’s confines before commenting, “So I see Bella took a shine to you.”

 

Rosalie groans, placing her forehead on the back of her hands, which are on the steering wheel. Alice smirks and Rosalie doesn’t even need to envision it because she can see it clearly in her rearview mirror. Emmett got to the shotgun seat before Alice did. 

 

000

 

Charlie is only mildly surprised to see the Cullen kids waiting outside with his daughter. He had called up Billy to see how things were progressing with his gift to Bella. It turns out Jacob had  _ just _ finished the night before. And seeing that they had yet to visit and see Bella, Charlie invited them over. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. Wolves in this case but same difference. 

 

He debates whether or not to honk at Bella, just to embarrass her a little but decides against it. She waves goodbye, and the other teenagers wave back. He notes that her bag is once again empty. He knows books are Bella’s weakness.They must be real good company, he thinks, for Bella not to check out any books. 

 

“Had a good day?” He questions in his gruff voice. 

 

“Yeah, I met Rosalie today.” 

 

He wonders if her day was great  _ because _ she met Rosalie or if those two are mutually independent. “And Rosalie is… the blonde one?” He thinks about how many children the Cullens have and hesitantly thinks he remembers correctly that there are 2 girls and 3 boys.

 

“Yes, Dad. Alice is the short one. And Emmett’s the tall one.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“ _ Hmm. _ ” Bella repeats. “So Billy and Jacob are on their way?”

 

“Oh. Yeah. I told them I would go pick you up. Hopefully we get there first.”

 

“At this rate? Dad, you gotta go faster! You’re the Chief of Police, it’s fine. Pedal to the metal! Step on it Dad! Vroom vroom!” She even places her hands in the air and mimes a steering wheel, lifting her knee and setting it back down in an exaggerated fashion.  _ Be Spongebob _ , she wants to say but is unsure if Charlie will get that reference. 

 

Charlie chuckles at her display and  _ slightly _ presses down harder on the pedal. 

 

000

 

They get there just as Billy is settling down into his wheelchair, Jacob standing not far from him and watching as the Swans arrive. He waves. She waves back. 

 

What Bella doesn’t expect is the other truck. She wonders whose it is and what is it doing here. It’s a nice truck, an older truck, she admires. It’s a faded sort of red color that’s probably seen many things in its long mechanical life. 

 

They get out of Charlie’s cruiser and get closer to greet them. 

 

“Heya Bella,” Bill greets first. “Looking good.”

 

“Thanks, you too. Still dancing?”

 

“Obviously.” He spins his wheelchair in place, wide friendly smile in place. “Charlie’s been talking  _ nonstop _ about how you’re staying for good, s’that true?”

 

“Very true, ” Bella answers as she hears Charlie mutter something along the lines of  _ keep exaggerating and I’ll roll you into the mud _ . 

 

Bill snarks back something about  _ ramming him in the ankles _ , and as the adults have their fun, Jacob steps forward to greet Bella. 

 

“Hey Bella, good to be back? Ready to build some mud pies again?” She rolls her eyes and steps forward into his open embrace and pats him on the back firmly. They played together as children, all three of the Black kids and little tiny Bella. But seeing as Jacob was 3 to her 4 years when she moved to California, he didn’t remember much of their time together when she started to regularly visit at 8 years old. 

 

The last time she made a mud pie might’ve been when she was 8. She told him they used to make some when they were younger and Jacob took that as an opportunity to make it a competition to see who would make the better mud and sandcastles. 

 

“You  _ know _ mine’s going to be the better one.” It’s his turn to roll his eyes. She steps back to take him in and he’s grown  _ taller _ damnit. She would always tease him that she was taller. He looks the same as the last time she saw him. His long hair has a few braids woven into it this time and he’s got the same toothy smile. “Nice hair.”

 

He’s about to give his thanks when Charlie comes over to the truck. He pats the truck and the resulting  _ thunk _ is loud enough to gain their attention. “So? What do you think?”

 

“What?” Does he mean the truck? What else could he be talking about?

 

“Your homecoming present,” he clarifies, “my cruiser is too much for you hip teenagers, isn’t it?”

 

Bella laughs a disbelieving laugh. “No way! This? Oh my god, this is amazing, she’s a beauty!”

 

“I rebuilt the engine!” Jacob pipes up proudly. 

 

She gives the truck another once over as if to ensure that this is indeed reality. In her excitement to get in the truck, she barely registers that she’s  _ whacked _ Jacob with her door. “Sorry!” 

 

She takes in the homey inside before rolling down the window and leaning out of it. “Waaait. How expensive was this?  _ Daaad _ …”

 

“No.” He holds up a finger in the air. “Your mother and I split the cost, don’t worry about it.” She narrows her eyes at him but lets it go because he’s just as stubborn as she is. Her mom always says she got that from him. She doesn’t quite like it when people spend a lot of money for her. 

 

She’s not entirely sure where she got that from. Or who, rather. 

 

She retreats back into the truck and Jacob’s there, ready to inform her of the truck’s quirks. “Okay so, you gotta double pump the clutch when you shift. Um, the radio’s a bit old and starting to get spotty. I can fix that later if you want.”

 

And sure enough, she pumps it twice to get it to work, the engine absolutely  _ roaring _ to life. It’s loud and she thinks there’s plenty of life left in this truck. She also silently thanks Reneé for teaching her manual before teaching her standard. They had to borrow a friend’s car for it. 

 

“This is amazing,” she voices again, awed. And it absolutely is. She doesn’t have to walk to school or have Charlie drop her off and pick her up. She’s independent now damnit. It’s an exciting feeling. Fuck, she can even sleep in! With her mother teaching classes, as well as morning classes to make some extra money, Bella’s been waking up at the buttcrack of dawn since forever it seems. She got to sleep in minisculely since she started high school but it was a minimal difference. 

 

“Anyone up for a game?” Bella looks out the window at Charlie’s voice. She’d have to try out the truck -  _ her _ truck now - some other time. 

 

“That’s why we came over. Besides the truck of course. Here,” Billy hands Harry’s famous fish fry to Charlie. Or rather, he shoves it at Charlie’s stomach and leaves him to fumble with it, careful not to drop the brown bag filled with delicious treasure. Billy heads towards the house and rolls his way up on the additional ramp that was made just for him. 

 

The older duo is followed shortly after by the younger duo, once Jacob finishes detailing to Bella the rest of the truck’s quirks and what to look for. Bella is completely uninterested in whatever game is playing on the television. She even has her phone out and hidden by a throw pillow, but she appreciates the atmosphere and is just content to sit there (rather cluelessly) with family. 

 

She wants to lament the end of summer but can’t quite bring herself to do so. She’s happy here. She’s met new people here, who she very much enjoys the company of. Instead, she looks forward to the start of school, which is next Tuesday, only a few short days away. She looks forward to getting back to work and in the swing of things. She looks forward to seeing Angela daily. She looks forward to her potential classes. She looks forward to hanging out with the Cullen kids again. 

 

She especially looks forward to that. And if that’s due to a certain blond and Bella’s own boundless curiosity, well.. 

 

Bella coughs to try to ease what she feels is a slight blush coming on. She focuses her attention back to the cute gay shit that she’s been scrolling through on Tumblr, that godawful and occasionally alright, place. She jostled slightly on the recliner when she hears cheers from the men. 

 

000

AN  - Wow, college. It’s been really different and I quite like most of my classes and the general place. It’s gorgeous here. Unfortunately it means that I have less time to myself, and therefore less time for writing. I will probably be back to writing in December-ish or so. My friend and I brainstormed some really great AU’s that I would love to eventually write...Most of this chapter was already done, and I really wanted to write the school scene but I suppose that’s for chapter 6. 

 

I’m glad you all seemed to like their meeting. I was worried it would be odd or something. Yes, the Cullens are still vampires in this, just a little different. Thank you all for reading. I love reviews, I get such a rush when I read them. I also get a rush when I post because I’m just so excited. See you all in December, it’ll be here before you know it!

  
SH4D0W44 - Me lo pasé muy bien en México. Encontré una serpiente de cascabel ... visité un par de lugares nuevos. Fantástico!  Lo extraño un poco. 


	6. Running in Circles

Rubatosis - (n.) the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat

 

000

 

The night before school, Bella dreams. She vaguely knows that she’s dreaming because she’s just going along with whatever her brain has in store for her. Nonetheless, she dreams. And like most times, there’s a 50/50 percent chance that she’ll remember her dream the following day. 

 

Come morning, she did not remember. In fact, the only thing she could remember was a nice, pleasant feeling. A  _ warm _ feeling even. Moments after waking up, she laid there in bed, thinking, wondering if the warm feeling was due to the all the covers or if it was just her. 

 

All she knew was that waking up was not particularly hard that morning. Then again, it could be because she was finally allowed to sleep in. For once in her life, she had gone to bed at a reasonable hour, set her alarm for a reasonable hour, and went to sleep for a reasonable hour (most likely). 

 

The more awake she became, the more she became aware of her surroundings. Like the fact that beyond her own breathing and the sounds of the outdoors, no one was home. Besides her and Spoons anyways. 

 

And speaking of Spoons! She turned her head and was met with a wall of black fur. “Thanks buddy,” she quietly spoke, her voice muffled by his mass. She got a high pitched  _ meow _ in return. She could feel the minor vibrations against her neck. Maybe he was the warm feeling!

 

But now it was time to get up. Sadly, unfortunately. So she began by sticking one leg out of her covers. Then she placed her arm above the covers, followed by the other leg. She released a huff and lifted the covers with a sudden movement from her other arm. 

 

She stared at the ceiling. She felt Spoons’ soft paw come to rest on her forehead. She hummed in response, as if to say,  _ what? _ She got her answer when he started pushing slightly. She wouldn’t quite call it kneading but it was pretty darn similar. She got his point though. 

 

“Alright, alright. I’m up,” she mumbled in a throaty voice as she did, indeed, get up. Just in time too. Her phone alarm started ringing and she shuffled to turn the offending abomination off. She made a mental note (that she would almost certainly forget) to turn down the alarm volume. Or at least change the sound.

 

She figured she would still have enough time to eat some breakfast and make it to school relatively early if she got dressed quickly. She was a timely person. For the most part. She loved routine because it contained the instructions to life. Though some might argue that DNA did that. Either way, she usually arrived at places intentionally early. This way, if she did get overly distracted or invested in some project or book or  _ whatever _ , she still had  _ some _ hope of making it on time. 

 

Somehow, she found some motivation and quickly got dressed. She turned back around to check on Spoons and found him curled up in a small indent-like cave that her form left behind. It probably still retained some warmth. 

 

“Enjoy it while you can.”

 

She walked down the stairs in her slippers. As she did so, she could feel more of the weather’s effect. The house wasn’t overly cold, though it wasn’t overly warm as well. She would have to ask Charlie what he usually kept the temperature at. Back in Phoenix, her mother would occasionally lower the temperature on the ac unit for a few hours before returning it to its original setting. There was even one of those SRP stickers that foretold when it was best to use machines (ac, washer, dryer) and when not to. And in the winter? Why heat up the house when there are perfectly good blankets laying around? That’s not to say that the house wouldn’t be warm. It just wouldn’t be  _ hot _ . 

 

She got to work on preparing her breakfast. Ah, cereal, breakfast of champions. She quickly works her way through it so it doesn’t turn soggy.

 

She made another note to search around for a jacket before heading out to school once she finished with breakfast. She had packed her backpack the day before with fresh notebooks and lead for her mechanical pencils. Only the thinnest lead would do for her scraggly and indecipherable handwriting. She’s currently locating all her needed materials and moving them to the counter. Backpack. Wallet. Phone. Headphones. She picks up her house keys and truck keys before she remembers that she’s still wearing her slippers. She heads back up to exchange her fluffy slippers for a pair of sneakers. 

 

She heads back down and mentally checks that everything is in order. On that note, she turns a faucet from the sink so her cereal bowl is submerged in water.  _ Now _ she’s all ready. Bella adjusts her bag from between her shoulder, slips her keys in her hoodie pocket and she’s out the door. School starts at eight exactly, on the dot. The clock hands on her smooth wristwatch point to seven twenty-five. She does some calculations here. It’ll take about five to ten minutes to get to school, depending on either the traffic or her speed. And then she’ll still have somewhere between fifteen and twenty minutes to wait for class to begin. 

 

She unlocks her truck and settles into the driver’s seat. She shuffles her bag off of her shoulder and onto the passenger’s side. She likes this time frame that she has given herself but continues to ponder it, all the while her hands are going through the motions of driving. Seatbelt. Would she be able to stop for a morning snack if she woke up earlier one day? Key in the ignition. What if she procrastinated and desperately needs to study one cloudy morning? 

 

Turn. 

 

The engine startles to life, loudly. Bella waits for it to warm up a bit before she does anything. While waiting and looking this way and that, her umber brown eyes settle upon a sticky note on her dashboard. Eyes narrowed, she picks it up with two fingers and gingerly pries it open from its sticky corners. 

 

She recognizes the handwriting almost immediately. It’s a note from Charlie about gas money. He had accurately thought that Bella would most likely grumble and mumble about money if he gave it to her outright. Smart man, she chuckles to herself in the car. She reaches over to the passenger’s side compartment and opens it to find a few bills rolled up in a rubber band. 

 

Well, that’s fair. Or dirty even. Still, she has no choice but to accept it and thinks about loosening her stance on finances. Loosen being the key word. The last sentence in the note tells her to have a good day and to kick ass in school. She send off a quick ‘thank you’ text to him, though she knows he won’t see it until later. 

 

With that done, she finally moves the gear from park to reverse to back out of the driveway. She moves it to park and halfheartedly plays around with the nubs on the radio for a moment. Jacob was right, it’s spotty. Bella frowns. She would’ve liked to play some music in the morning before hell. Err.. School. Same thing. Either way she leaves the spotty radio on in hopes of recognizing some words through the static. She’ll just have to set up her phone somehow next time. 

 

Bella enjoys school for the most part. She’s not too keen on being dubbed the new student. And since it’s a small town, she’ll probably (unfortunately) be the biggest news for a long while. 

 

She takes another left and marvels at the school. Marvel might not be the right word but she’s still.. Impressed? With the size of the buildings. And the parking lot actually. It’s slightly bigger than her old high school. Bella idly wonders if the underage people drive. That would account for its size right? 

 

There’s no way there’s  _ that _ many students here. If she had anyone to bet against, she would put her money on less than 800 students. Maybe 800 if faculty were to be included. 

 

Gays can’t math, she reasons, and drops the thought as she quickly scans for a good parking spot. By good, she means capable of providing a quick getaway. Or even just slightly out spaced away. And she finds it. She has to parallel park, but she just sees that as more practice. She is parked on the outskirts of the parking lot. She can see a trail from the passenger’s side window. Down the little hill. 

 

It’s a nice secluded spot. As secluded as it can be anyways. She can see the cars coming in and out, and can even catch a hint of the people walking up the stairs to the building. She assumes the first building that she can actually see is the office and she decides to make her way over there. 

 

Of the few people that are residing in the parking lot (early risers, Bella thinks), one of them mutters,”Nice ride.” Bella isn’t sure if whoever said that is being sarcastic but she mumbles a thanks that she hopes they don’t even hear. She just keeps walking, not bothering to deal with it. 

 

As she’s ambling over, she realizes what makes this school so different. There’s no fucking fences. Bella looks this way and that and is oddly ecstatic to realize this. It’s not like she skips class; she’s a good noodle. But the  _ knowledge _ that fences are nowhere to be seen is odd and powerful. She could have lunch outside if she wanted to. She could read outside or something. Then she wonders how many students are so inclined to skip. 

 

Before she knows it, she’s in front of the door to the office. She knows it’s the office because there’s a helpful sign on the wall proclaiming that the office is just inside. There’s even a small red arrow pointing to the door. 

 

She opens it slowly and enters quietly, leaving the door to gently close between the small distance. Her backpack scraps against its glassy surface for a moment before she moves forward again, this time in the direction of an older lady behind a receptionist desk. 

 

“Hello, I’m here for my schedule?” Bella starts off rather quietly and ends her sentence in an uncertain question. She doesn’t wanna assume that they’d have things ready or that they would immediately recognize her. She’s sort of hoping to blend in.  _ Ms.Cope _ , the name tag on the desk reads.

 

This goes entirely out the window with the lady’s - Ms.Cope’s - next words.  Scratch that, it’s completely shot out the window with a slingshot or some other projectile. Complete with broken glass too. 

 

“Oh, yes! You must be Isabella Swan, the chief’s daughter. We’ve been waiting for you, here’s your schedule dear. And a map. Let me point out a few of the buildings,” she trails off while turning back around to her desk in search of a pen. 

 

Bella stands there awkwardly for a moment until Cope turns around and begins marking up her map with mild explanations about each red drawn circle. Bella nods and makes noncommittal noises to show that she is absolutely paying attention and is not at all wanting to make a run for the door the next time Cope turns around. 

 

At last, her explanations are done and Bella is free to go. She walks through some door opposite from the one she came from. She roams about, looking at the buildings and keeping a mental checklist of which buildings she’s come across and where they are in relation to other buildings. 

 

She’s in the middle of reviewing her schedule when she hears footsteps from behind her. It would be easy enough to dismiss these as the footsteps of everyone else milling about but these are determined steps. Bella barely has time to think,  _ oh god I’ve been spotted _ before someone’s at her side, keeping step with her. 

 

“Hey, new girl! You’re Isabella Swan right? I’m Eric, the eyes and ears of this place,” the boy begins.  _ Eric _ , she mentally repeats so as not to forget his name. She’s terrible with names. His long black hair is almost covering his eyes. She finds herself admiring his black button up, she’s been meaning to buy more button up shirts. And flannel once it gets colder.

 

She’s got slightly wide eyes the whole time he introduces himself. It’s  _ weird _ . It’s so unusual to her that she’s easily outed as the new girl with absolutely no effort (small town she reminds herself but  _ still _ ). But people approaching her out of the blue is new, and she finds that she doesn’t quite like it. 

 

She is brought back from her thoughts when he starts to speak again, “I’m anything you need - guide, lunch date, shoulder to cry on.” Bella blinks in thought at his words. Frankly, she’s not very impressed with his little spiel. In fact, there’s a silence that’s a second too long in which she thinks it’s her cue to say something, to respond to the genuinely friendly words.

 

His smile is too bright as he either doesn't notice the awkward silence or willfully ignores it. “Oh um..” 

 

Another pause as she thinks of something that’s enough drop a hint. “I’m more of the suffer in silence type,” she lamely says with a shrug. 

 

“Suffer in silence,” he repeats after her, holding both hands up as though he’s imagining some sort of sign. “That’s a perfect heading for the school newspaper, and you’re front page, my friend!” 

 

Well fuck. He’s in the newspaper stuff. Her brain has a split second of curiosity as she wonders if it’s a class or a club. Then she panics mildly. There goes her chances of blending in. Unless she can talk him out of it. 

 

“Oh, god no. Please don’t, I’m just trying to blend in. You know, silently infiltrate the school and lay low until I graduate.” 

 

To her credit, he laughs. “You make it Forks High School sound like some sort of spy movie. I get it though, no editorial, don’t worry about it. Can I walk you to your first class?” 

 

“Sure. Yeah. I’ve got English first.” 

 

“WIth Mr.Mason? He’s chill, or so I’ve heard.”

 

Eric isn’t too bad actually. Probably like everyone else here, which is interested in the shiny new toy. 

 

Almost everyone, somewhat unbeknownst to Bella. 

 

They talk about the teachers and what their classes are like, or going to be anyways since Eric got most of his information from current seniors. He even tells her that he knows people from which to buy their old books from past English assignments, which Bella can appreciate to some extent. Though she prefers to have her own impressions first and then discuss possible perspectives. 

 

Thankfully they get to Bella’s English class relatively early. Eric waves goodbye as he leaves for his Newspaper class. He mildy laments that he has English next and that’s basically double English according to him. There’s still some minutes left before the school bells will start ringing. Thankfully, because Bella transferred before the school year started, she doesn’t have to get teachers to sign some sort of sheet. Another way to blend in, she ponders happily. 

 

Mr.Mason is neither surprised nor  _ not _ surprised with her punctuality. He merely musters up a smile and tell her to pick a seat wherever. He doesn’t do assigned seating, he tells her. She likes this class already. 

 

She doesn’t know how permanent these seats are going to be. Semester permanent or quarterly permanent? Nonetheless, she weighs her options carefully. Front desks are quieter but the teachers are often in the front for most of the class. Middle desks are alright. Back desks are either loud or quiet. It’s hit or miss with those. Though Bella notes that Mr.Mason’s desk is in the back. She suspects most teachers’ desks will be in the back. 

 

Thus, Bella wisely chooses a seat in the back portion of the class. On the right side closer to the door, but she’s seated on the aisle chair. This way, in her mind, she doesn’t have to get stuck in traffic with everyone else hoping to escape the room as early as possible. The aisle provides easy access. Satisfied, she plops her backpack against one of the legs of the table and rests her head against her arms. She supposes she can stay in this position until the class actually starts. 

 

It’ll probably all just be syllabus stuff that she can space out in class and read at home. 

 

000

 

The Cullens get to school a few minutes before the bells are set to ring. They all know  the first week is more or less pointless but they  _ have _ to attend anyways. Thus, they’re a bit reluctant to leave the house early for no reason. This early in the semester anyways. They split up between Rosalie’s vermillion BMW and Edward’s argent Volvo. 

 

They all walk in pairs to a mildly secluded spot under a tree. They compare schedules, working out when to pair back up and when to find each other should anything happen. Nothing will of course, but back up plans are important. Edward nods sagely at Rosalie’s last thoughts and Jasper glances in her direction in appreciation of her determined feelings. 

 

“That’s that. Let’s go Jasper!” Alice breaks their low chatter cheerfully. She links arms with Jasper and they walk together to their math class. It’s technically classified under ‘Trig/Algebra II’ in their schedules. And so, she’s stuck with Emmett. They’re going to walk to the same place anyways so it doesn’t matter much. She lets his idle talk occupy the air, filling in the blank space with her opinion on the occasion. 

 

As they are walking to their first and only shared class, Emmett’s discussing what to cook when they get home. She rolls her eyes at the fact that he will take any excuse to celebrate with some big dish but nonetheless provides him with some options. He shoots down a couple of her suggestions and she shoots down some of his in return. With so many options, he needs some help eliminating a few. 

 

All too soon they reach the entrance to their English classroom. The door is propped open by a door stopper and they both passed the threshold at the same time. Immediately, something caught their attention. 

 

“Is that...?”

 

“Indeed, it seems to be,” Emmett thoughtfully comments. 

There’s a moment of silence as they continue to stand there. In a quick second, Emmet’s sky blue eyes met Rosalie’s own narrowed cornflower blue. A burst of sudden movement from both sides. They split up, Rosalie taking the outer aisle and Emmett taking the inner aisle that separates both halves of the classroom. Rosalie is careful to keep eye contact with her brother the entire time. 

 

Naturally, she arrives at her destination before Emmet does. Had the floor been made of linoleum, the chair would’ve squealed against the surface from the speed at which Rose pulled the chair and sat down. 

 

“Hey Bella!”

 

Emmett quickly takes a seat at the neighboring row, with a face. Rosalie sticks her tongue out at him in triumph after her too quick greeting towards the sleepy girl. 

 

The sudden movement and noise is enough to rouse the figure under the soft green hoodie. It’s Bella, which Rosalie almost did not recognize at first when they initially got to class. To be fair, Bella had been wearing a blue hoodie when they met. She’s not even close to breaking a sweat or out of breath but her heart’s racing all the same. Rosalie blames it on Emmett and his impromptu competitions. 

 

Bella unfurls her arms and looks to her left. She sees Emmett and beams at his friendly wave and sheepish smile. He looks as though he sat down in a rush. She wonders why. She pulls the thick hood down and turns to her right while doing so. She regrets pulling the hood down because she kind of wants to curl up in a ball and hide. She has no idea why.

 

Instead clears her throat before responding to the other girl’s earlier greeting, ”Hey, good morning.” 

 

Her hands, which had finished lowering her hoodie, are now placed on the table, though Bella is wishing that she had a pencil on her desk to play around with. 

 

She sees Rosalie open her mouth to say something but the bells begin to ring at that exact moment. Rosalie closes her mouth with a sort of annoyed look. Bella starts laughing but she can spot hints of a smile on lipstick red lips. Bella has absolutely no idea what shade it is (between apple red and burgundy) but she thinks it’s a lovely deep color. 

 

Darn her appreciation of color, making her notice all these not-so-useless details. 

 

Belatedly, she realizes that the school’s bells aren’t so hideously sounding to her ears. 

 

Then, “Mr.Cullen, why don’t you take a seat in the back? There isn’t anything to grade at the moment.” 

 

Two sets of eyes look on as Emmett relocates to a seat in the very back, closet to Mr.Mason’s desk. He pulls out a book to read and ignores the rest of the class coming in and their curious eyes. Bella spots white clouds against a blue background amongst a few trees in the cover of the book before she faces forward again. 

 

Grade. Nothing to grade. This is what Bella picks up on and correctly deduces that Emmett must be a TA, a teacher’s assistant. And since this is a junior class, he must be a senior. 

 

Movement catches her eyes and she is pleasantly pleased to see that Angela has taken the seat in the row in front of them. “Good morning Bella, Rosalie,” she begins and offers out her hand to Bella in a greeting. Bella lightly slaps the offered hand and they fist bump to finish it just as the teacher walks by their aisle to get to the front of the class. 

 

Two students stumble in right before the final bell rings, a blond boy and a dark haired girl. Bella wonders how far they had to run while Mr.Mason advises them to get to class earlier. The boy takes a seat near to what Bella thinks is one of his bros. They’re all smiles and quiet laughter until the table in front of them shushes them. 

 

The girl on the other hand has wide eyes as she looks behind the occupied tables to Emmett sitting in the back. Her light eyes flick over to Rosalie before comically widening a bit more as she spots Bella. There’s an unoccupied seat in the front and she takes it before Mr.Mason can make another comment. 

 

Angela twists around in her seat to tell Bella, “Those two that came in, that’s Jessica and Mike.” She faces forward again when Mr.Mason is done writing on the board and is now handing out papers. 

 

Oh. That makes some sense now, Bella supposes. Bella feels like she sort of knows these people due to Angela’s many stories. She’s heard of them but she has yet to actually meet them. She’s a bit relieved to see that there’s three rows between her and this Jessica girl. 

 

Chatty, is the word that often cropped up in their conversations that sometimes regarded Jessica. Eager was the word to describe the flaxen haired boy, Mike. 

 

For the most part the class is quiet. She occasionally glances over to observe Rosalie (subtly she thinks but probably not). She finds her in a relaxed but attentive position, a direct contrast to Bella’s own slouched over form. She sits up instead. She pokes her neighbor on the shoulder and whispers to Rosalie, “Remind me to ask him for a reading list.” 

 

The rest of the class goes by in a similar manner and she ends up getting her reading list after Rose had poked her with her own pencil, hard. Thankfully it was the eraser end. This time. Mr.Mason had muttered  _ there’s always a few _ when he handed an additional page to Bella, and Rosalie, seeing as she was waiting for Bella. 

 

“What’s your next class?”

 

“Oh, uh…” Damn her stuttering! “Biology,” she says much too quickly before continuing, “Why?” 

 

“Can I walk you?” She had expected maybe Rosalie telling her what her next class was but she sure as heck wasn’t going to say no. 

 

“Of course.” 

 

They get to biology fairly early, courtesy of them taking the less populated route. They chat about how boring the first week usually is. Bella takes a seat towards the front of the class this time, with Rosalie sitting down next to her. Bella is a bit confused by this point. Back in Phoenix, she would sit down with her buddies between classes before going off to her own class or her own seat. 

 

She wonders if her friend is just there for now or for the class. So naturally, her inquisitive nature takes over and she asks, “Do you have biology too?”

 

An arched eyebrow and an amused lazy smile greet her, “Yes, Bella, I have biology.” 

 

Students file in, taking no notice of them sitting together, unlike Jessica earlier. Bella keeps an eye out for her. Feeling silly, she retreats into her hoodie a bit, much like a turtle. Her hoodie is green after all. 

 

“In fact…-” 

 

Bella jerks suddenly, facing her companion at her soft words. “- I think Edward does as well.” And sure enough, amongst the last students to come in is a gangly bronze haired adolescent. 

 

Edward makes it a point of either getting to his classes as late as possible or as early as possible. This early in the year, he opts for the former. This way, the back seats are usually unoccupied, leaving him free to do what he wants. Unfortunately, seeing as how biology is a required science, every seat will be occupied. He learns this as he sits next to a girl he vaguely recognizes as Jennifer Ford. 

 

At least she’s quiet, observant like him. He closes his eyes and instead focuses his attention on her. Sometimes he wonders why he was cursed with his gift. It’s useful, sure, but has too many downsides. Like this one. He discovered early on that it’s better for him to try to focus on one mind at a time instead of allowing everyone else’s thoughts within his immediate radius to barrage his brain. 

 

So he places his cheek on an enclosed fist and pretends to be bored. He’s watching Jennifer keep track of the other students. He feels bad for her (and everyone else’s) lack of privacy but figures that most people will never know. 

 

She scans from left to right, back rows to front rows.  _ Huh, that must be the new girl. What was her name? Something Swan… _ She’s obviously spotted Bella up in the front. Then she sees her lab partner and Edward has never wished he didn’t have his gift as much as he does now. 

 

_ God, I want her to raw me... _

 

Thankfully, it’s just a disinterested and pensive comment but it’s enough to send him in a coughing fit. Loud enough that a handful of students turn around towards the source of the noise, Rosalie and Bella included. 

 

_ It’s always the quiet ones! _

 

He shakes his head frantically towards her cocked eyebrow. She’s curious, extremely so, but wary about asking. She’s thankful she isn’t privy to such unsaid conversations. Jennifer startles next to him and wonders what is up with him. 

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he preemptively waves off her unvoiced concerns. He leans over and grabs his water bottle to take a couple of sips from. He debates about who to tell about this particular comment. Should he at all? He is quite attached to all of his limbs and he was sure this would get out before the next decade. His mate first or last?  Emmett and Alice would find humor in the crudeness of it. Alice and Jasper could keep a secret, and if anything, Jasper would find a more tactful way to break the news to Rosalie, should the topic come up. Which it probably would, given his random coughing fit. 

 

Perhaps he would keep this to himself a while longer. With that thought, he focused his attention back towards the front of the class, mentally repeating the teacher’s words to have something to distract himself. 

 

000

 

The class ended far too slowly. But now it was close to over. Bella packs her things quickly and stands impatiently, apparently going at such a fast pace that Rosalie decided to comment on it. 

 

“Running away from me already?”

 

Laughter burst out of Bella at the unexpected comment. “Ha! Hardly! Not from you anyways.  _ Yet. _ I’m just trying to avoid Jessica’s cross examination before she finds me.” 

 

The bells ring and “Ah, look at the time. Goodbye fair maiden, I bid thee  _ adieu _ !” She dramatically stage whispers to Rosalie, not looking back as she practically flees. 

 

There’s a multitude of thoughts flying around in her head at the moment. She is vaguely concerned about running into Jessica but she also didn't want Rosalie to be late for her next class if she had walked beside her again. Gym is a bit far. Bella needs to find her US History class. She has a rough estimate of where it’s supposed to be so she heads off in what she assumes is the right direction. 

 

Their proximity, or lack thereof really (they had to lean in to keep their clandestine conversations quiet), leaves her a nervous wreck. That damned and deaf, squishy red organ pounded against her ribs, lessening for a few minutes, and then restarting suddenly in class. She was washed over by a wave of paranoia, wondering if Rosalie could hear how  _ hard _ it was gushing. 

 

History class is a blur and all she knows is that she sits next to Angela. It’s the one class so far that has assigned seating but it works in her favor, this time. She’s hungry now. Cereal, the breakfast of hungry champions, is not enough to last her very long and she realizes she forgot to pack some snacks when she reached into her empty backpack side pockets earlier. 

 

Thankfully it’s lunch time. Bella and Angela immediately hightail it to grab a bite, the former pulling the latter, despite having little to no idea as to where the cafeteria is. Bella isn’t particularly fond of cafeteria food but she deems the hamburgers there worthy enough. She’s hungry enough to ignore the fact that it’s most likely fake meat or something. 

 

The last thing she wants is for Angela to make some joke about needing a Snickers bar and how  _ you’re not yourself when you’re hungry _ . They pick a decent table that allows for easy access to the door. It’s also excellent for people watching, according to Bella. 

 

They sit. And they wait, with Angela explaining things to Bella. 

 

“So we usually sit here, though they’ve moved the tables a bit.. Anyways, there’s Mike and Jess from earlier. Lauren, though she’s...bitchy. And there's Eric, he’s on the newspaper with me.”

 

“Ah, okay.” Bella smiles and nods as though she knows these people. She will now, she supposes. It seems as though the rest of the table got their lunch as a large group because there’s suddenly familiar and unfamiliar faces sitting down. 

 

“Burrito, my friend?” Mike, she remembers, offers food to Eric, newspaper boy from earlier. 

 

“Hey, hey, Mikey! You’ve met my homegirl Bella.” Homegirl? Like friend or close friend? She’s not entirely sure what to think of it considering that they only met this morning. 

 

“Oh, your homegirl?” Mike asks a bit loudly, mouth open and eyebrows nearly up to his hairline. Loudly enough for another boy to declare, “My girl,” pressing his lips to Bella’s cheek while simultaneously pulling out Mike’s chair. Bella freezes, and like earlier, her shoulders stiffen and the expression on her face is something else. 

 

She vaguely hears some sort of rumbling in the distance, though she has no idea from where. Oddly enough, a chill runs up her spine and the hairs on her arms raise up in solidarity with her goosebumps. 

 

Her expression comical enough that Angela shouts “Turtle!” in lieu of ‘ _ cheese _ ’ as she snaps a photograph of Bella with Mike running after Tyler in the background. “There, now we have a picture of your first day!”

 

She sounds way too happy about the photograph but Bella lets her have it. They only have summertime photos after all. Still, she relaxes now that all the excitement is over. She takes a large bite of her meal and continues to chew and takes another bite. She wipes her cheek discreetly, passing it off as a scratch. 

 

“Well, you seem to have the entire male population of the school wrapped around your finger.” 

 

_ But not the female population? _ Bella thinks sarcastically. 

 

This must be Lauren, she guesses correctly. Angela’s words from earlier echo back to her and she even admits to herself that Lauren looks...well, bitchy. She’s got a nice enough face but Bella can detect a not-so subtle bit of disdain. She looks like one of those stereotypical popular mean girls. She wonders if  _ Mean Girls _ is still on Netflix. She has a sudden urge to watch it now. 

 

Shaking the thought of movies from her head, she mentally follows the trails of thoughts that she had before she thought about movies. 

 

Oh, right. Even in her thoughts she isn’t sure if she meant something gay or just the ironic situation that her sardonic thought provided. Because clearly Lauren and Jessica want to learn the secrets of attracting the schoolboys. 

 

_ Certain ones _ if Bella wanted to give more thought to it. But she didn't. 

 

“Unfortunately,” Bella at last responds, around the time that Eric (surprisingly) decided to chip in his two cents with, “What about the Cullens?”

 

“They don’t count.” Came Jessica’s slightly too quick reply. Bella shifts slightly in her seat to catch a glimpse of the people in question, sitting in their ‘designated table,’ among the throngs of students. Her reply had been louder than Bella’s own  _ “Why?” _

 

Bella’s comment is again ignored as Lauren replies with, “Really? Because they’ve been glancing this way repeatedly.” Bella steadfastly remains seated in the same position, doing the opposite was probably expected of her from the others as the new student. 

 

Instead she plays dumb, asking to the table, “So who are they?” She wants to know what they think of the Cullen group, wants to know how the girls gossip about someone, how they react to new gossip. Eric wisely chooses this time to let the girls gossip and joins the other students in the lunch line. 

 

Jessica eagerly opens her mouth to speak but Angela beats her to it, wanting to give Bella the full story. 

 

“So a while back Dr.Cullen got a job at the hospital and he moves his entire family here right? That’s his wife and all their adopted foster kids.” Bella takes this moment to steal a piece of chicken off of Angela’s salad. She half heartedly slaps Bella on the arm after she popped the piece into her mouth. 

 

“They all come from Canada!” Jessica stage whispers. 

 

“They’re all  _ together _ , like together together,” Lauren sneers. 

 

“It’s not like they’re related.” Bella sternly puts a stop to Lauren’s vein of conversation. She knows exactly where the other girl was going with that little tidbit of info. Angela agrees with her and Lauren quiets down. 

 

Jessica tactlessly picks up right where they left off. “ _ So anyways _ , the one at the left end of the table is Jasper. He’s always so stiff and looks like he’s in pain. He’s with Alice, the short girl next to him.” Now is when Bella glances over, and she sees exactly what she’s describing. Now that she thinks back to the blur of history, she thinks it’s quite possible she and Jasper share that class. 

 

Bella knows all this so far. She just had not known the last two brothers. And now she does, thanks to Jessica’s monologue. The other one she doesn’t recognize must be Edward, though Rosalie  _ had _ pointed him out earlier. To be fair, she didn’t catch a good glimpse and she had walked off to History before the classroom was even empty.

 

“She’s very… bubbly, too happy almost. The one next to her is Edward. He doesn’t date, so don’t bother. He’s awkward when you talk to him sometimes. The big guy next to him is Emmett. He’s muscular but he never joins any of the sports teams.  _ Weird _ . And the girl at the end is Rosalie, but you already knew that didn’t you? How was sitting next to the Ice Queen?”

 

Rosalie arches an eyebrow at the comment as she and Bella hold eye contact. The last comment causes her to break that contact, and she turns back to face Jessica. 

 

_ Ice Queen? _ Bella scrunches her eyebrows in confusion briefly before smoothing them out. “It was fine? She was very  _ chatty _ .” 

 

She deadpans the last bit but her tablemates don’t seem to catch that fact. “What,  _ really _ ?” comes the incredulous voice of Jessica. 

 

“Pfft, no!” Bella’s scoff turns into gleeful laughter. “I’m kidding! She’s very quiet, polite.” 

 

Clearly, it’s not what Jessica and Lauren were expecting to hear. They almost look disappointed. At least they didn’t ask her about how her day was and how she was liking Forks so far and how different it was from Arizona. Bella can occasionally hear the slivers of conversations people have when she walks by and most are too shy to directly ask her. 

 

She checks her watch and thinks it’s almost time for lunch to be over. She turns to Angela and leans in so she can hear her over the din of the lunchroom. “I’ve got study hall next, what does that mean?”

 

“Oh, free period, study period kind of. You can go to the library or sit down in a hall, or even sit outside on the benches. If anyone asks you can just show them your schedule, though I doubt anyone will. C’mon I can walk you to the library so you know where it’s at.” 

 

Both girls stand up and gather their items. While Jessica and Lauren don’t really question it, the former does wave goodbye at least. They wave in response and leave to their destination. 

 

000

 

Merry christmas! I meant to have this out earlier but I went out, only because I really wanted to try some ponche Navideño! I think I wrote most of this within the last few days. I’ve been distracted by AC Odyssey, reading, and sleeping. I’ve been thinking about my writing style recently but I’m really glad y’all seem to like it so perhaps I’ll experiment another time...Sometimes I think it’s a bit wordy and drags but all in the name of painting a pretty picture!

 

Still trying to get Rosalie’s character right, to match what I've got in my head… Anyways some readers on ffn had some theories. Do y’all have any theories?

 

Anyways, college is great and  _ I thank you all for your kind words _ . I’m doing really well and my hellish English class is finally over. Ironic. Be sure to leave reviews, they make me happy! Merry Chrysler and have a great new year!

 

BEFORE I FORGET, I SAW THIS ONE POST ON TUMBLR AND I SAID I WAS GONNA WRITE IT IN SO I DID. ENJOY! :)


	7. Immortal Gossips

“All too often, schools resemble museums, reflecting the past rather than the present.” - Max Tegmark. 

 

000 

 

Angela escorts Bella to the library, their conversation about books they’ve read and books they want to read. The bell rings just as the library is in view. Angela reiterates, “Remember, anyone asks, just say study hall. I’ll see you in math, think you can find it?”

“Oh, yes. Totally.” And off she’s gone (but not without a skeptical look), leaving Bella to her devices. She walks into the library and is instantly pleased to note rows upon rows of books. The room’s got that old timey book smell, the smell of degrading and decaying organic materials. She read something about that somewhere. Perhaps she’ll pull up the information on her phone to refresh her memory.

She notes an elderly looking lady and assumes she’s the librarian. Not really liking anyone watching her, she moves to a table mostly hidden from the woman’s view and sets her backpack down, letting it hit the ground with a swift  _ thud _ . She debates about whether or not to go hunting for a book. She’s got less than an hour and she really likes to take her time when looking. Maybe she should just peruse the aisles and mentally keep track of anything she finds interesting.

Or, or,  _ maybe _ , she should find a book. She’s a bit disappointed that she left Dracula and Frankenstein back home. She knows she probably would have had very little space for them. That didn’t stop her from buying a book at the airport though. If she wants horror she knows she has a copy of Lovecraft somewhere in her room. Honestly, she finds Lovecraft’s fear of practically everything very humorous. Non-Euclidean geometry haha. Okay, tone down the Youtube videos. Maybe she needs a new bookshelf. She contemplates if there is an Ikea here and if she should check on her phone. The better idea would be to properly organize all of her property, including books.

This weekend seems a good time for it. First week is all about syllabi in her various classes. She suspects they’ll get right into it in math, not today but by the end of the week definitely. She’s already thinking about what to clean first as she heads over to the fiction section of the books. She knows it’s the fiction section because there’s a big helpful sign hanging from the ceiling. She ends up looking for Shelley because she knows it’s shorter and a much faster pace than Stoker. Plus, she enjoys reading the long, descriptive sentences. She picks up a red paperback copy, the ones from Barnes and Noble.

She saunters up to the checkout desk and hopes the older woman isn’t busy. Bella finds it awful having to get someone’s attention. She never wants to be intentionally rude, especially to retail workers and whatnot. If she could just go about life without too much human interaction, that would be nice. But that’s not how life works and she would very much like to get into her book to avoid thinking about the future.

She presents the book to the lady and pulls out her new ID from her back pocket. She had received it along with her schedule from Ms. Cope. Already, she can detect a small tint of blue from her jeans on the formerly pristine white plastic card. She finds it amusing and purposefully sticks it in her back pocket when the transaction is done.

She walks back to her somewhat hidden seat and starts reading the timeline on Shelley’s life before she actually digs into it.

.

.

.

The timeline actually takes Bella longer to read than she had originally imagined. She’s not entirely done with it before the school’s bell system interrupts her leisurely reading.

“Oh shit.”

She takes out her very folded schedule from her other back pocket, only the classes and room numbers showing up. Math. She has math next. She pulls her backpack up from the floor and onto her lap, opening the zippers quickly to sift through the contents inside. She pulls out a crumpled map.

She knows where her classes are from her  _ ingenious _ idea of highlighting the classrooms during lunch. Bella got around with the help of people she had shared classes with. Only now, she has study hall. She’s only seen a few students milling about and neither of them look entirely familiar.

Her pointer finger traces along the paper and she finds the library easily enough. It’s got a number on it and there’s a key on the left hand side of the map. Oh. Well, that’s good; it’s nearby.

She takes one last look at the map, intent on memorizing the route to get to her next class, before shoving it back in her backpack along with her new book. She’s out the door within a minute or two of the bell ringing. Bella thinks that’s how much time has passed, anyways.

Left, straight, right, right.

Left, straight, right, right.

Left, straight, right, right.

She’s so intent on chanting this in her head that it doesn’t register in her mind when she tunes it out. She gets to the building just fine; the giant number on the side of the edifice looks familiar.

There were more to her directions. She can’t remember the directions exactly but she knows there was more. With a slight frown, she reaches out to pull open the door to the hallway and enters inside, leaving it open for the next person behind her. The hallway contains students searching for their classes, walking either in a descending or ascending order along the room numbers.

Reaching into her back pocket with two fingers, Bella once again produces her schedule. Oh. Her classroom should be just down the hallway, if the numbers on the doors are any help. It seems that she did end up taking the right way (duh), she just ended up taking a different way. Oh well, same result.

The warning bell rings, signifying that there’s a minute left until classes should start, just as she walks through the threshold of the door along with some other students. Already there’s a line forming and Bella can see why. This is going to be one of  _ those _ classes. The teacher (Mr. Varner?) is handing out white index cards. He’s repeating his instructions every time he sees a new wave of students coming through the door.

“Take a card and find the matching number on the desks.”

The cards are fanned out in his hand and some students are actually taking the time to carefully consider a card. Bella’s pretty sure this teacher wouldn’t notice if someone was late, given the line still forming at the door. She lines up with everyone else and when it’s finally time for her to choose a card, she does indeed a second or two to decide between cards.

Bella slowly makes her way through the aisles, approaching what she thinks is a seat with the number 26. She spots Angela and makes her way towards her if only to see what number she got.

“Hey-o.”

“Hey, what number did you get?”

“26.”

“Nice! That means you sit right here. Must be lucky, huh?”

She voices her agreement and sets her backpack down next to the foot of the table. It’s in better access anyways.

“Psst,” Angela stabs her in the side with a finger.

“ _ Ow. _ What?”

“Guess who else is in this class?”

“I dunno, who? It’s not like I know the names and backstories of all these people,” Bella hisses back sarcastically, quieting down at the end of her sentence when she sees that the teacher has handed out all the cards and is coming back into the classroom.

Mr. Varner sends back piles of papers to be handed out amongst the aisles. Angela holds up a finger to Bella, as though to say,  _ one moment _ . The papers finally reach them in the back row and the brown-haired girl who turns around to pass them over looks vaguely familiar to Bella. She can’t quite place her however.

The teacher begins talking and Bella loses her moment to ask Angela who she is. In fact, his monologue doesn’t seem to end. He’s actually reading through the syllabus and emphasizing certain points. She’s sure that by this point Angela most likely forgot what she was going to tease her about. Oh yes, tease her. At this point in their friendship, Bella has practically developed a sixth sense for things like this.

000

Directly after US History, one Alice Cullen has Chemistry as her next class. History class is usually more bearable with Jasper, who often whispers funny or sarcastic comments about whatever topic the teacher might lecture about for the day. Too bad they don’t share that class this time. As it is, she’s currently waiting on them to round the corner.

A few more seconds and she’ll be able to hear them. Slowly but surely, she can hear their voices increase in volume as they discuss their shared gym class.

“Okay, but what if some guy throws a ball too hard?”

“Then you pretend it hurts.”

It’s phrased as a question more than a statement. Jasper feels Emmett’s concern at somehow having their cover blown. However, he himself is in deep thought about how much humans will let things slip past them. He casts a glance at his brother and finds his own thoughtful face being reflected back at him. He thinks about this. He decides not to  _ think _ about it any further. It can wait till they get home, when he can retreat to his room and not affect them all so much.

Instead he musters up a small smile and tries to send reassuring waves. “We’ll be fine Emmett. Most likely, things will get passed off as random occurrences. The adrenaline, stuff like that.”

Ah, Jasper. Always the thoughtful one. “You’re right. So, which units do you think will be first? Volleyball, kickball, basketball?”

They turn around the corner before Jasper can answer.

“Volleyball!” Alice proclaims as she spots her brother and her mate. She waltzes over to Jasper’s side and continues walking with them down the hall.

“I don’t even have to guess! What will I do with my brain?” Emmett cries dramatically at a smug Alice. Jasper snickers at his theatrics. They all walk into the chemistry class as a unit and take their seats at a table close to a corner. Away enough from the other students so they don’t happen to overhear what they shouldn’t know about.

“So Emmett…” The way Alice phrases that particular sentence is almost conspiratorial, and Emmett is only slightly unsure of what to make of it exactly. It has to be gossip. “English class.”

Instantly a smile lights up his face and he starts guffawing, head dropping to the table and one hand pounding lightly at said table. “Oh my god.”

“What is it, what happened?” Jasper wasn’t there but he can feel the utter joy and humor radiating off of them. He’s also detecting a sliver of mischievousness. He looks at them eagerly, their mood rubbing off on him. This  _ has _ to be good.

“Rosalie raced me for a seat next to Bella. Raced me! Can you believe that?”

 

“Bella? Family-meeting-Bella?” Jasper lowers his voice as he asks this of them. He’s the only one who hasn’t properly met Bella yet. 

 

He was initially wary when he got Alice’s phone call in Brazil. Family meetings are important. And he didn’t like the fact that this Bella was, essentially, a blind spot. But he agrees with Carlisle. Better to wait it out, see what comes up. Alice would never lead them astray. He has total faith in his family and that, while it would’ve been scary just a mere decade or two ago, is enough to lighten his mood to something happier. 

 

“Well, who else would it be? Everyone annoys Rosalie, that’s how it’s been for the past decades,” Emmett reaffirms Jasper’s tentative answer. 

 

“More like  _ centuries _ , but-” Alice jested, referring to Rose’s personality. 

 

“-Anyways,” Emmett cut off her sister’s soon to be rambling, “-she literally glided through the desks to get to her. I swear it was like watching her get her first deer after a long break from feeding.” He shudders when he remembered what took place in front of him that day.

 

“Emmett!” Jasper hisses. “We’re at school!” Sometimes it feels like he’s the only one who worries about exposing themselves. The humans are oblivious and he can sense no increased interest in the students around them. It’s fine, it’s fine. They’re fine. 

 

“Do you really think she was going to go in for the kill?” Alice asks, paying no mind to her mate’s outburst. She simply pats his hand and lets it rest over his larger one. 

 

“Alice, I really think so. She  _ growled _ at lunch. They clicked at the library. C’mon!”

 

“She literally called Rosalie Venus and stuttered her way into that conversation.” Alice deadpanned. She had no doubt that they did click at the library. Thank god Alice gave her that car book. 

 

“Did she now?” Jasper pipes in excitedly. What a brave human this Bella must be! He snickers at the thought of Rosalie staring down an oblivious and fearless human. He can perfectly imagine a confused version of his twin. Anyone one of them would be, really. But alas, he is ignored as Emmett and Alice continue their little sibling repartee. 

 

“So?”

 

“So this is coming from the guy whose mate is the epitome of a broody awkward mess.”

 

“Hey, he’s  _ my _ broody awkward mess.” He defends proudly. 

“Oh my god. We get it. You’re gay and in love. Get a room.” Alice interjects. She doesn’t mind the fact Emmett and Edward were so cute together.  But what she does mind is all the times she’s walked in on them trying to reach each other’s tonsils. Usually she would’ve been able to foresee these events but unfortunately, hormones and spontaneity were forever her enemies. 

 

Emmett opens his mouth to retaliate but before that happens, the annoying sound of the bell effectively kills all conversation -- as well as the mood. It is further trampled down and has no chance of continuing when the teacher steps in. Like the students, there is no sign of life in the tired eyes of the grown up. To be fair, it was the first day of school. The first Tuesday of the school year so it’s not like anyone is particularly pleased to be here. 

 

“Remind me why we’re still going to school.” Emmett mutters from his spot.

 

“Because we’re eternally teenagers?” Jasper mutters back and gives him a shrug. 

 

...

 

The calm atmosphere outside of the high school was something else entirely to Bella. Back in Phoenix, everybody would be in a hurry to leave the parking lot, resulting in traffic that would take some time to sort out. Here, students milled about slowly. They formed groups around their friends’ cars. They decompressed. At least, it all seemed like this to Bella, who had already arrived at her truck by the time classes ended. 

 

Gym class, and its resulting building, were one of the few buildings that were significantly closer to the parking lot. And seeing as how Gym was her last class, the coach let them out early. 

 

Because of this, Bella is actually unsure if the parking lot is normally this peaceful. Probably not. Good thing she’s here early and ready to go. The honk of a car horn nearby catches her attention. It should as it’s Angela, who drives past slowly and gives a wave. Bella waves back enthusiastically. Once the white car drives away, Bella’s left looking in the direction of the school. She spots the Cullen group and gives a wave, hoping, but not really expecting that they’ll see it. They are a closer to the school than she is. 

 

They do wave back, even Rosalie and Edward, who happened to be walking towards the rest of their siblings. 

 

Well. That makes her happy actually. She’s got friends now. Thankfully no else parked this far away from the school, meaning that Jessica wasn’t able to hound her questions. Perhaps Bella will experiment with parking spots and see which ones are best. There are several factors she has to take into consideration. 

 

While thinking this, she unlocks her truck and unceremoniously throws it into the direction of the passenger’s seat. It teeters and totters a little on the edge but manages to stay put on the seat. Eh. It’ll fall anyways when she starts up the engine. Any other time she would be more careful but it’s been a long day and there’s nothing in there anyways. Just syllabi and pencils. 

 

She backs out from her parking spot and makes her way home. Summer is over but all she really wants to do is curl up on her bed with Spoons in her lap and play some video games or watch some tv. She yells at the other players online if she’s got a good gaming day going. They can’t hear her but Spoons has picked up on this and meows loudly when she jolts around too much or yells too frequently. 

 

She’s just gotten home when her stomach growls. For now video games and tv can wait. Now, she’s on a hunt for a snack.

000

So MR happens to be on spring break right now and she's a terrible influence. That being said, i've reached my studying quota for the day anyways. Brain is gone. Anyways she helped out with this chapter so see if you can spot the writing differences. I'm on break soonish so I'm hoping to get some writing done, just not sure when the next chapter's gonna be out. Pretty sure I haven't said this yet but super huge thanks to everyone who's left kudos and bookmarked and pretty much just read any of this. When I first started I said I was gonna be happy if I even got a handful of followers so seeing the numbers now just blows my mind.

Lycobra - Here's for that whiplash! You're comment made my day when I read it.


	8. Lights, Camera, Action!

Hazard (n) - 1. an unknown and unpredictable phenomenon that causes an event to result one way rather than another 2. Put forward, of a guess, in spite of possible refutation (v)

 

000

 

Harper wonders why she’s even doing this. She’s not really the outdoors type of person and yet, here she is. She glances over at her friend briefly before shifting her attention back to the ground. She doesn’t want to trip and she’s been really careful about it so far. Overgrown roots? Spotted. Uneven rocks? Stepped over. 

 

John, on the other hand, looks like he’s having the time of his life. He’s excitedly taking pictures of plants and whatever wildlife he hasn’t already scared away. He’s crouched down near some foliage, and Harper walks past him. 

 

It’s starting to get late. It’s difficult to tell with all the enormous trees overhead, but a look at her watch affirms her concerns. 

 

She decides to voice them. 

 

“Hey, Johnny? It’s starting to get late. We should leave.” She continues to stare intensely at the ground as she walks, cautious of the potentially dangerous greenery. She think she hears John following after her; there is a minor crack from what she thinks to be a fallen branch. They’ve already passed several. 

 

Harper stops suddenly, feeling a chill creep up and radiate throughout her spine. She scans the trees in front of them but sees nothing. The remnants of the sunlight filtering through, the particles in the air floating about, undisturbed. It should be peaceful, only... She doesn’t feel that way. 

 

It’s now that she realizes how quiet it’s gotten. 

 

“Johnny?”

 

She whips around but finds herself alone. There’s no sign of him, as though he never stepped foot in the forest. She frantically proceeds to where he was crouched down earlier. Her eyes roam the treeline in quick, uneven sweeps. Her breaths are coming quicker, her palms feel sticky in her enclosed fists. 

 

“This isn’t funny John!” 

 

“It’s not supposed to be.” 

 

A scream wants to fly out of her throat but instead she takes in a gasp of air. There’s a muffled thud behind her and she falls down, startled and tripping over her own legs. She crawls backwards in an attempt to place some distance between her and this stranger. 

 

The first thing Harper notices is his hair. It’s pulled back tightly into what she assumes to be a ponytail. There are some leaves sticking out of the mess on top of his head. The second feature she notices are his teeth, feral looking in an intimidating attempt at a smile. If Harper had bumped into him in the streets, she would’ve forgotten his face immediately.

 

Whatever this is, she doesn’t think she’s going to get out of this alive. But if she does, she’s making it her job to commit him to memory. Shirtless. Eyes are dark, likely brown but it’s hard to tell in the lighting. 

 

He takes a step forward, and she inches backwards twice as much. He tilts his head to the side, scrutinizing her, observing her. 

 

“James!” 

 

It’s a woman’s voice, not too far off. At first she has the wild thought that maybe this person is another hiker, looking for someone else as well. But the way the man tilts his head back in response to the voice, while still watching her, is telling. 

 

“In a minute!” He replies in saccharine sing songy voice. He feigns a lunge forward and Harper scrambles back as though he had taken another step. He laughs. 

 

The backpack is heavy on her back but she manages to wretch herself sideways, onto a crouched position, and kicks off of her back foot like she never has before. The bag jumps from shoulder to shoulder heavily against her back and she pulls both arms towards her chest to slide them through the straps to drop it immediately. She hears it land with a surprisingly muffled noise as it hits the forest floor somewhere behind her. 

 

She’s lumbering along the path. That’s too predictable, so she veers sharply to the left. She’s breathing heavily, taking in short mouthfuls of air. No, no, no. She’s never going to get far like this. She struggles to breathe in through her nose but she manages to do so. Deep, deep, deep. C’mon, c’mon. She’s burning, scorching on the inside, her lungs, her legs. It’s the acid in her body, the milk one. Lactic acid can go to heck. 

 

Another sharp swerve, to the right this time. She faintly hears diabolical laughter, it’s getting closer. Closer still. 

 

No, no, no. Branches swipe at her face as she passes them by but she pays no attention to them. She feels her heart running a marathon at full capacity, feels it in her ribcage, in the back of her throat. 

 

It’s getting lighter in the distance. Is it a clearing or is it the woodland edge?  _ Is it safe? _

 

She thinks James has her when she falls down unexpectedly, scrapping her palms and knees on asphalt. She kicks away at whatever is grabbing her but it turns out to be an overgrown tree root. 

 

The position she landed in affords her with a view of James creeping continuously closer. He’s some twenty, thirty feet away, still grinning and chuckling dangerously when he cuts off abruptly. The expression on his face morphs into something else. A furious scowl, narrowed eyes. It’s anger. His lips lift up in a snarl and Harper swears she hears him growl. He tenses, and so does Harper. 

 

He leaps up into the air, grabs a tree’s nearby branch and disappears off into the distance where she saw him come from. 

 

She doesn't feel any safer when she sees that the threat is gone. She somewhat recognizes that she’s somewhere along a road. She vaguely thinks she hears differing snarls in the woods but by this point everything is blurring together. Up ahead she sees the parking space where she had been earlier in the afternoon. She runs toward it with total abandon, cries for help coming out of her dry mouth. 

 

000

 

It’s a fine Saturday afternoon when Charlie gets a call. It’s technically his day off but as Chief, he goes anyways. 

 

“Sorry Bells, looks like it’s important,” he mouths off to her as he gets up to take the call in the kitchen. They were watching some movie, a documentary this time. Bella was absolutely delighted in all the faces Charlie made at some of the more unusual animals. 

 

He continues the phone call and is listening intently at the information that is being relayed to him. There was an accident of some sort with a hiker earlier today. He hazards a glance at the kitchen clock and finds that it’s around 8. So, a few hours ago. The officer on the phone doesn’t know much else but the tone of his voice makes Charlie think that this is a bad case. 

 

He retrieves his badge and gun and makes his way to the front door. “Looks like a bad case, Bella. Might stay at the station overnight but there might not be much we can do at the moment. Lock up and stay safe anyways, alright?” 

 

“Of course, Dad.”

 

As he’s retrieving his keys, he thinks about the fact that Bella has only been home for a few weeks. He wants to keep her away from anything dangerous. 

 

He closes the door behind him and locks it. He travels to where his cruiser is parked besides Bella’s truck and gets in it. He starts up the engine and waits a minute before making his way towards the station. Some time later he arrives and he enters the seemingly quiet building. 

 

Some officers flock to him but he orders them to get organized. He wants a meeting in 5 minutes. He goes into his office and turns up the desktop monitor. He has a feeling he’ll be sending out emails for important people to check in the morning. 

 

He walks back out to the precinct, where the officers have crowded around a whiteboard. One of them has drawn up a loose timeline of what has been established for far. There’s not much. The officers fill him in and he thinks deeply about what all of this means. 

 

Harper West was hiking in the woods between 5 and 7 pm. The officers have cordoned off the general vicinity for now. It’s too dark to search effectively. They’ll have to wait until morning. The EMTs that treated the girl told them that she mentioned seeing someone before she passed out from exhaustion. She didn’t say much else, so there’s no way of knowing if she was hiking by herself, though that seems unlikely. So there’s also that. They’ll have to interview her in the morning. If she did see someone, a forensic or criminal sketch artist might have to be brought in. Charlie couldn’t recall when was the last time they brought one in. It was normally very peaceful in Forks, even with the occasional odd thing happening. The officers usually pass such cases up to Charlie, knowing that he’ll take care of those types of cases. The people here knew weird events happen but the majority of them refuse to know more than that. They just want to know when it’s fine. 

 

Charlie settles back in his office and begins writing out a couple of emails to colleagues of his. Some know, some don’t, so he’s careful to keep track of what information and questions he’s sending to whom. 

 

He paces in his office a while after the emails are sent. There’s not much to do. It’s dark out, the girl’s in the hospital unconscious most likely. Just as he’s one ring away from burning a lap onto the carpet from his pacing, the computer emits a low beep, signifying that an email has been received. Charlie looks on in mild surprise before approaching the old machinery. He wasn’t really expecting anyone to respond, granted how late it is. 

 

Charlie’s eyebrows reach new heights as he looks at the given names in the email. The first one, now that’s really interesting. Esme Cullen. He didn’t know she was qualified. He rubbed his chin in a thoughtful gesture. That oddly made sense however. Last he heard, she did something with houses. House decor? Architecture? Anyhow, it was art in a way so it made sense. 

 

Forensic artist. 

 

She  _ does _ happen to be the closest one. He decides to send an email, writing of the circumstances and if she would consider helping them at the station. Or the hospital rather, if the West girl isn’t discharged. He cursed mildly at the fact that this happened late at night. The best thing they could do was to close off the area. They took photos with the flash on and collected some preliminary evidence. They’d have to do a more in-depth search come morning. 

 

Charlie glances at the clock in his office and makes the executive decision of going home. He collects his things and waves goodnight at the remaining officers. There are other duties after all. He turns his keys in the ignition and proceeds to drive home. When he parks in the driveway, he can vaguely hear Bella’s loud music blasting from her room. Well, he sent her a message that he would be home soon. That way he won’t be subjected to baseball bat next to the fridge. 

 

000

 

The day is late. So late that the stars are only halfway through their eternal game of hide and seek. They twinkle in and out of appearance behind clouds, and trees if one happens to be wandering about in the forest. The forest is dark and it appears as though time moves differently. The nighttime wildlife are roaming about, free as they please. Some hunt, some play. Some sleep and some hide. 

 

There’s something roaming about. Something large. The tiny creatures can only attempt to predict its path and they scurry out of the way when they hear  _ it _ coming. When they feel its steps as tremors in the grassy ground. 

 

Thud. 

 

Thud. 

 

Thud. 

 

Its path is slow, though it’s not due to its large stature. It seems … thoughtful almost. Something has attracted it here, that much as clear. The way it angles its head towards  Ouranos, this way and that way, before finally settling its head towards Gaia. Wet black ambles along the moss. It sniffs up its down to a fallen trunk. Claws clumsily jab at it before resuming its previous activity. 

 

Sniffing. 

 

There’s so many scents in the air here. It’s filled with  _ life. _ But he’s searching for death now. It’s a scent he’s not particularly keen on getting to know better (he has plenty experience). But … there’s something else in the atmosphere. This one is something sweet, too sweet almost. 

 

He knows what it is. He stills, and paws at the dirt in hesitation. The scents will converge either way and he’ll get to his point of interest eventually. He just can’t decide which one he wants to hunt out first: death or its harbinger. 

 

He settles on the former, though the latter is still on his mind. Despite his decision, he still follows the saccharine scent. It’s right there after all. He sniffs his way up another tree. Glistening claws work their way up the trunk.  _ Higher, it’s still up higher. _ The beast lessens its weight against the trunk before pushing against it heavily. The tree is old and the roots are well placed deep, deep in the earth. Still, it’s no match for its opponent and down it goes. 

 

If there’s only him in the forest, who else will hear it? 

 

The top, it’s the top he wants. Up his nose goes, closer and closer to where the scent is thickest. It’s cloyingly sweet. He expels air through his nostrils hard, as though something is tickling it. He rubs his snout along the back of his paw, careful not to slice himself with sharp claws. 

 

The trees then. A popular choice of transportation is seems. Still, it seems uneasy. He kicks off from the tree and reorients itself towards its original path, where most of the activities occurred. 

 

It continues to saunter along the nonexistent path, slow but alert. Mindful, taking in the sensory inputs from his surroundings. Some time later it finally reaches where it wants to be, what attracted it here in the first place. 

 

It’s here where the saccharine scent converges with the more human scent. Blood too. Something happened here. A meal maybe. There’s yellow tape enclosing off the some of the area. It’s low enough in comparison to his enormous form that he easily steps over it. 

 

Though there’s a lingering scent that stand out amongst the others. Tangy almost, but not in an entirely pleasant way; it’s the scent of fear and adrenaline. He finds this one more intriguing than the others and follows it. It leads out and away from the forest. His head bobs up and down from time to time, making sure that the too sweet scent is still following from up above. 

 

Right when he reaches the end of the treeline, an previously undetected scent hits him. It’s  _ cold _ . Crisp and dangerous. It’s a disgusting scent. It scales over his nose and he only now realizes that this section of the woods is a cooler somehow. It’s not a pleasant scent despite the curtness of it. He’s mildly surprised that the scent hasn’t faded yet.

 

His hackles rise as he takes in his surroundings. There’s a growl wanting to emerge but he stamps out the urge. 

 

There’s nothing here. 

 

Not yet anyways. Supernatural attracts supernatural. He might be the first to come along but he won’t be the last. Still, the knowledge that whatever scared off the vampires is still around is disconcerting. And he  _ knows _ it was scared off. The scent follows the human one along the tree branches before abruptly changing direction. He’s assuming the human one continues down the road. But he won’t step out into the open road. There’s better coverage in the forest for him. 

 

He rears up on his muscled hind legs one more time, nose angled up, just to be sure. He crouches back down when done, his nails nearly reaching the forest floor in this position. Satisfied with his findings, he heads back towards the site. There’s just something missing. 

 

A body. 

 

000 

 

A bell rings as a door is pulled open and closes but a second after. Stepping out into the harsh neon lights of the convenience store’s signs, Edward adjusts the grocery bags in his hands. He ended up getting way more than he expected. That was fine though. He would just have to sneak the snacks to their respective recipients. 

 

He had gotten a sudden craving for something sweet late in the afternoon. Emmett had fed him a spoon of his ice cream but that was Emmett’s favorite, not his. 

 

Someone was bound to have something sweet in the house but he wanted to actually get out of the house and drive to the store. He probably would’ve been more satisfied if he had walked but that would be mildly suspicious. They usually went grocery shopping every so often for when they need lots things. However, there was a small unspoken rule that small items are bought when needed. Snacks? He’s off to the convenience store. Or Alice or Emmett or Esme. Whoever wants to go really, whoever notices what’s missing. 

 

And he wanted something sweet. So now he’s here. Or was. Now he’s outside. Some gossip startles him from his thoughts of what to hunt when he returns home. He sits down on the curb of the sidewalk, untying his shoes and proceeding to tie them, very slowly. 

 

It’s some patrol officers, getting ready for their shift. They enter the store as Edward left. He listens in. He focuses in on the thoughts. The words coming out of the rookie’s mouth don’t quite match what he’s thinking. He’s agitated, though Edward can tell from the older offier’s thoughts that he doesn’t seem like it. 

 

It’s like playing telephone. Edward is trying to piece together the thoughts. He curses their stream of consciousness. He picking up thoughts of  _ oh no _ and  _ wow this coffee is good. Really good _ . He gives up when he hears the tell tale  _ ching _ of the cash register opening. Or is it closing? Either way he finishes tying his shoe and quickly unlocks his car. He shoves the bags of sweets in the empty seat and backs out of the parking lot. 

 

He makes it home speedily enough. Grocery bag in each hand, he makes it inside the large building. Instantly he notices that his mate isn’t here, neither is Carlisle. And he can’t pick up any car jargon from Rosalie so she’s out as well. To be fair, he had told them to go on without him, that he’d catch up. Plus it’s not like there’s any particular reason why they need to follow a safety-in-numbers rule. 

 

Or… 

 

Maybe not. As soon as he gets back, heck even when he was driving closer to the house, he started to pick up their thoughts, as though they were whispering secrets in his ears. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He really doesn’t most of the time. All he receives at the moment is intrigue from Esme. Jasper and Alice are relaxing in the living room. He supposes he’ll reach her door when he drops off her sweet. He’s got gifts to deliver. 

 

He reaches Jasper and Alice first. To Jasper he bequeaths a box of junior mints. He takes it with a thankful smile while Alice reaches for the bag hanging off of Edward’s arm and searches around for her twizzlers, too enraptured by the tv. Following that, he heads to the garage and leaves some peach rings on the counter. He ascends the stairs in quick succession, his knees hitting the bags. 

 

He deposits a box of Nerds on Carlisle’s desk and strolls over to Esme’s office. His fingers rap against the wood first but he opens the door immediately afterwards. Esme is deeply concentrating on the screen in front of her but notices when he steps inside. 

 

“Hello Edward,” she gives him a wide smile, happy to see him, but looks on curiously at the bag in his hand. All the while, he recites the ingredients in the candy he bought. He names them continuously, one after the other. Corn Syrup, sugar, gelatin. Then there’s citric acid and sorbitol. Natural and artificial flavors. He really tries his best not to invade their thoughts but it gets tiring very soon. He lessens up and the details of Alice and Jasper’s soap opera come to his mind. How the beginning of Esme’s email is phrased.  He sits down in front of her. 

 

“Here you go Esme,” he pulls out the watermelon gummy rings and is content to see her eyes light up in delight. 

 

“Oh, thank you dear.” She pinches his cheek and reaches over to ruffle his hair but he skillfully leans back out of the way in his chair. They stare at each other a moment more before Esme gets back to the email she was writing. She’s writing it out now but she’ll send it in the morning. She stills when Edward stands up. 

 

“I’m going to catch up with the others,” he begins, “but … are you going to call a meeting? You are right?” 

 

“Yes, I do believe I will. We do have to keep an eye on things that could affect the humans. It seems like something … odd happened recently.”

 

Satisfied with this answer, Edward leaves Esme to her emails and walks in the direction to his room. He leaves the two boxes of skittles in his room, knowing that Emmett will just come by later. He glances down at his outfit and finds it acceptable to hunt in. He could always just buy some more clothes, if he was particularly attached to his outfit today, should it get ruined. 

 

He exits his room and jogs down the hallway, over to where the door is to the balcony. Once there, he leaps over the balcony’s balustrade, palms coming into brief contact with the metal before pushing off of it. He lands on the soft forest floor and takes off in a run towards the scents of his family. He hasn’t run too far into the darkened forest when he encounters them and their thoughts. 

 

He witnesses Emmett chasing Rosalie up a tree before he refocuses his attention on a nearby Carlisle when Rosalie continues climbing said tree. She reaches the thicker, more sturdier branches before leaping to another tree’s long limbs. Carlisle dodges all of Emmett’s attempts to land a winning hit before knocking Emmett off his feet with a low sweeping kick. Emmett plants his palms on the ground before bringing his legs to his head and pumping them forwards in a kip-up. 

 

He stares at Carlisle for a second, contemplating his next move. Edward glances up towards Rosalie and she’s watching him carefully, wondering what he’ll do. She was planning on jumping from the tree and onto Emmett when he would go for Carlisle again. Easily, Edward thwarts this by instead leaping onto Emmett’s back and wrapping his arms and legs round him, like a ginger koala. Emmett buckles slightly under the unexpected weight but places his arms under his mate’s thighs to better secure him. 

 

“Tag,” Edward cheerfully exclaims as he waits for his mate to turn. Emmett twists his head around to face Edward and puckers up his lips in an exaggerated manner. Edward delivers a quick peck on his cheek before being released and drops down. 

 

“Ah, young love,” Carlisle sighs dramatically to Rosalie, who smoothly lands from her drop to the forest floor. She rolls her eyes but she does agree somewhat with his comment. 

 

“Looks like we’ve scared off the game,” she thoughtfully states. 

 

“That’s fine, we would’ve had to hunt deeper into the woods anyways.” And off they go, deeper into the forest where food is abundant. It’s some time later, when they have yet to encounter any creatures that Rosalie slows and thinks about voicing her concern when Edward beats her to it, “Carlisle.”

 

She throws a mild glare at him, but it’s evident that Carlisle was having similar thoughts. 

 

“It’s strange…” his hand covers his mouth in quiet contemplation, “all the animals were scared away. I doubt they heard us this far away.” 

 

Carlisle stands up from his crouch on the ground He gives them a shrug and they disperse in their own curious directions. Rosalie looks up at the trees and wonders about them. Emmett lets go of Edward’s hand and playfully shoves him in the opposite direction of where he’s planning to go. They carefully search for anything amiss around the vicinity. 

 

Minutes pass by. 

 

For once, Emmett is careful to make as little noise as possible. Which isn’t too hard, really, when the forest’s soft floor muffles his footsteps most effectively. But he is vigilant not to step on branches or scuff his shoes on rocks. His eyesight is just as effective in the dark as in the light, and he appears to wander aimlessly among the scenery. 

 

All of this seemingly slow meandering comes to a stop when he spots something up ahead. He stills and crouches down next to a fallen tree to conceal himself as he keeps an eye on the unknown subject. It’s big, he can tell that much. He just can’t tell what it is though. Despite his vision, the thing is made up of a dark color that blends in with both the night sky and the darkened tree trunks. 

 

He backs away slowly, intent on finding the others. He finds Rosalie first but he’s not too keen on making noise, and she’s too high up to see his efforts at getting her attention. He drops to his knees and frantically searches the ground for a pebble. He finds it and positions it between his middle finger and thumb. He takes careful aim and flicks it. 

 

It hits his target in the back of her head and he can already hear an emerging growl. She catches the small rock before it falls out of her hair and onto the floor. She turns to face the culprit with a glare and readies herself to jump. Upon seeing Emmett’s hand motioning her down urgently, her anger lessens slightly.

 

She makes her way down, but once she’s there, Emmett’s gone. She spots him scurrying along to find the others. She rolls her eyes but follows after him in the same quiet manner. Eventually Edward arrives with Carlisle in tow. He must’ve heard his mate’s thoughts. She has the brief thought about whether or not Carlisle knows what’s going on. Irritated, she stares Edward down with a deep frown, “What is it?”

 

“Emmett said he saw something big in the forest, thatta way,” he points in the general direction that Emmett must’ve come from. “It’s quite possible it’s another supernatural being, so we might as well check it out. Can’t let it get too close to the humans.”

 

_ You’re starting to sound like Carlisle. _

 

The copper haired boy sticks his tongue out at her unspoken comment. 

 

“Well, Emmett? Lead the way,” comes her resigned voice. This was supposed to be a normal hunt…

 

This time, purposeful is the word used to describe the way they reach their newfound destination. There’s nothing careless about it; they walk slowly but determined. Once they get close enough, they split into two groups, Edward with Emmett and Carlisle with Rosalie. They head in differing directions as they near their target.

 

Emmett nudges Edward to get his attention. At Edward’s inquiring look, Emmett taps his finger on his head, the question clear on his mind. His mate turns to observe the hulking figure and shakes his head in a definitive no. 

 

Edward can’t read its thoughts. All he gets is static with the occasional …  _ feeling _ or word coming through. He continues to focus and manages a flash of the forest floor through its eyes but nothing else. He gets closer, intent on identifying the hunched somewhat bipedal creature when the thunder of a branch breaking underfoot reaches his ears. He whips his head around to make contact with Emmett’s large guilty eyes. 

 

In an instant, the creature’s shuffles stop and the silence is deadly. Nostrils flare and expel air sharply, as though displeased. There’s a resulting growl that builds in volume. Edward makes eye contact with the other two vampires and nods. It quiets down for a second before the growl is replaced by the sound of furiously retreating footfalls. 

 

“Wha…”

 

Baffled by the sudden retreat, they run after it. Surprisingly, they aren’t making any headway. The split second start it had and the distance it covered stayed more or less the same as they run after it. It veers sharply to the left, and Edward narrowly avoids a collision with a tree. Despite the occasional sudden turns, it still heads in what seems to be the same direction. There are just as many left turns as there are right swerves. The trees start to thin out as they near the curve of a serpentine road. Edward hesitates for half a second before pushing further to try to make up for it. 

 

It runs across the long winding road, beams of moonlight falling on its coal black coat and finally illuminating its monstrous figure. Eyes practically popping out of his sockets and thoughts racing, Edward takes it all in, committing it to memory. He barely registers his coven behind him. 

 

It crosses the road in three long strides of its oversized paws, the third of which it uses to propel itself further into the opposing woods with an extra push in his hind legs. He’s sure they saw the mighty thing before it jumped, if Emmett’s  _ whoa!  _ was anything to go by. 

 

They follow after it, thankful that there were no cars along the road to witness this. The woods thicken before they thin out once again and Edward briefly wonders if there’ll be another road to traverse before his geographical sense of location kicks in. 

 

“Wait, that’s a residential area! Shit!”

 

With that in mind, he pushes his legs to run faster than he can ever remember doing. He can see the wolf in front of him, albeit at a distance. In the camouflaging darkness, it simply looks like a shadow. And then it disappears as it breaks through the treeline. A few moments later, Edward breaks through the treeline. And he stops immediately. 

 

There’s nothing. No trace of it. 

 

_ That’s impossible. _ He’s incredulous and it shows clearly on his face. He can see houses and houses ahead of him. Seeing as they’re close to the forest, the houses are spread out moderately apart. The house closest to him is small and white. He jogs in one direction to see if perhaps the wolf is hiding on the other side of the houses. It’s not. All he sees are some parked vehicles of this house and all the other houses. 

 

Emmett runs up and places a hand on his shoulder as he slows down. “What the hell, did it just disappear?” 

 

He hears Rosalie and Carlisle somewhere behind him and he turns to face them. They’re at a loss as well. They head back within the cover of the trees. The coven heads back to where they originally found it sniffing around, hoping to catch some sort of scent. Oddly enough, there’s no scent to be found. Rosalie was sure there was one when they first flew past it. Although adding to the mystery, that does explain why they didn’t notice it at first. Nothing seemed amiss. They head back to their house, resolving to hunt another day. When the beginnings of their mansion comes into view, they spot the tiny figure of Alice and the others waiting outside for them. 

 

There’s plenty to discuss, and all the while, Edward still swears the thing was bipedal when he first spotted it. 

 

000

 

Bella is still up late in the night when she hears a loud thump coming from down the hall. Charlie had come in a while ago and in response, Bella had significantly lowered the volume of the music playing in her room. She’d been reading a book in an attempt to wind down and get ready for bed, though she felt no sleepier than she did an hour ago. 

 

Curious, she calls out to her father, “You good, dad?” She gets an answer after a few heartbeats. 

 

“Yeah, Bella. I’m fine … just fell.” Charlie is kicking around his leg, trying to get untangled from his sheets on the floor. He sighs, before crawling back up his bed and taking care of the issue there. 

 

She snorts at his embarrassed response. She turns off her music, and places a bookmark in her book. If he’s in bed, she should be too. She gets ready to stare at the ceiling for the remainder of the night until either the Sandman or Morpheus whisks her off to sleep. 

 

_ At least tomorrow's Sunday _ . 

 

000

This chapter should be a real treat. Lemme hear the theories! I think it came to me in a daydream and it was very fun to write. I’ll have to think of the next plot point/thing to write about. Thanks to all those who commented, favorited and followed! See ya when the next plot bunny comes around. Pretty sure I edited most of my notes/mistakes out but lmk if I didn’t. 


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